


Memories of the City

by akinari_kamiki



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Angst, Depression, Domestic Violence, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 86,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akinari_kamiki/pseuds/akinari_kamiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, man, when you’ve saved the world and killed the goddess of creation at seventeen, maybe everything after that’s downhill.”</p><p>In Inaba, everyone knew Yu's name. He was surrounded by friendship, love, mystery, adventure. Two and a half years later, in a college dorm in bustling Tokyo, the only things he sees every day are unfamiliar faces and all-too-familiar walls. Nothing since has ever felt as real as it did back then. Memories of the City is the ongoing story of Yu Narukami's search for that which will make him whole again, whatever that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreamless Dorm, Ticking Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mighty Yu Narukami - the goddess-slaying, harem-toting wonderman - wakes up at three in the morning, makes instant ramen, watches trashy TV, and wonders where everything went so wrong.

**PART ONE**

 

**December 7, 2014**

_I’m afraid of a future without everyone._  
_I’m terrified of losing my friends, of having to go on without them._  
_I want to stay here with everyone. I don’t care if it’s just an illusion in the fog._  
_I’ve already had my share of loneliness! I don’t want to be alone anymore!_

I wake up in a sweat, those words from so long ago still ringing in my head. Still ringing true, actually, all these years later. God, what a terrible time to remember that. I wipe the sweat from my brow, noticing how quiet it is. Normally Yosuke’s snoring in the other room could be heard from across town, but tonight, just silence. He must be out, again. Leaving me here all by myself, again.

That dream’s going to keep me up all night, isn’t it? I know I should, but I just can’t bring myself to lay back down. I need to get up, move around, do something. So I open the door, go into the living room, and turn on the TV. There’s nothing on worth watching, of course, it’s like three in the morning. Whatever, I just need some kind of sound to fill the nothingness in here. Heading into the kitchen, some trashy late-night celebrity show comes on, and I hear a familiar name.

“A shocking scandal! New photos show idol Rise Kujikawa getting a little too close with her new college boyfriend! Her fans are in an uproar, can Risette’s career possibly recover from such a disaster?!”

Ugh. I feel sorry for her. She’s a sweet girl and a great friend, but the idol business is a rigged game. If she acts like anything short of a perfect, virgin angel, the media vultures descend on her like fresh meat. Even if she could keep that act up, every idol has an expiration date. One day she’ll be old and busted, and some younger girl will be the new hotness. Disgusting. I should give her a call, but she’s been impossible to get ahold of lately. She’s probably asleep now, anyway.

So I make some instant noodles and sit on the couch. The clock keeps ticking relentlessly. Speaking of girls I should call… no, don’t bother her, she’s probably asleep, too. I sigh. I’d hoped that filling my stomach might make me tired again, but nope, no luck. I stare into the TV mindlessly, its senseless chatter my only company.

———

It’s been three years since I met them.

I wasn’t a social kid, quite the contrary. Mom and dad were always off on business, so I spent a lot of time by myself. Constantly moving from school to school meant I never made friends for long. I’ve always been quiet, reserved, alone. So what made Inaba different? Why did everyone there welcome me with open arms? Sometimes I wonder if what Izanami said back then was true, that the power of the Wild Card is what drew everyone to me. A depressing thought, but I’m fearful that it makes too much sense.

After I moved back to Tokyo, I didn’t really make any new friends. Just tried to cling on to the ones I already had. We’d call each other all the time, I’d come visit during Golden Week, that sort of thing. But that’s never enough. You might think that being such close friends makes it easier to keep a long-distance friendship alive, but really, it’s exactly the opposite.

It seemed like a blessing when Yosuke called me to say he planned to attend college in the city. We could go together, be roommates, bro it up. Sounded like a good plan at the time, right? So that’s what we did. But… I don’t know. Maybe he was always this way and I just never noticed, but I swear he changed. He goes out all the time, comes home smelling like alcohol, brings home girls that I never see again. It’s not really my scene, so he leaves without me. Maybe he’s trying to catch up on all the city life he missed out on in Inaba, I’m not sure. But it doesn’t sit right with me.

You know, I say he leaves without me, but it’s not like he doesn’t invite me along. But I never take him up on it. I always make an excuse, shrug him off. What is it? What am I afraid of? Where do I get off judging Yosuke when all I do lately is sit around the dorm? Why am I sitting on the couch thinking about all this at four in the morning? My head aches, telling me to stop. I stare into the TV, the blather of the show hosts buzzing in my ears like flies. I get up and walk over to it, and just as a test, I put my hand on the screen. And sure enough, it still goes in. So at least I’ve got that going for me.

Sigh. I walk back to my room and fall out on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Not one of my finer nights. I roll over - my phone’s laying on the bedside table. One missed call. Hmm? I flip it open to take a look, and my chest sinks. I look at the clock again, a quarter past four in the morning. I can’t call her back now. I want to, badly, desperately. I wanted to call her before I even noticed that. But I can’t. I can’t.

I call her. _Ring_. I can feel my chest tightening. _Ring. Ring._ She picks up.

“… Yu-kun?” Her quiet voice sends sparks straight through my heart.

“Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” She lets out a roaring yawn.

“You did, but it’s fine. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t sleep, and I saw you tried to call, and I feel like an asshole for calling you so late, but I’m losing my mind over here and I miss you and I just really needed to hear your voice.” I think I heard her choke back a tear.

“… I miss you too. And don’t worry about it. Really. I’m glad you called.”

“How are you holding up back in Inaba?”

“Haha, to tell the truth? Not great. I feel like I’m in way over my head, but it’s too late to change my mind now.” I just kind of lay there for a moment, not sure what to say. She speaks up first.

“So, um, how’s Tokyo?”

“Lonely.”

“You always say that, but it’s so hard to believe! The Yu-kun I know could make friends with anyone. To be honest, it kind of scares me when I think that you might meet new girls out there. Smarter ones, prettier ones…”

“Don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it! I mean, you saw my Shadow. I think I’ve gotten a bit better since then, but it’s still so hard not to think about stuff like that…”

“You know, maybe you are kind of a misfit.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But maybe I am too. Maybe that’s how we fit together.” It’s quiet for a moment until she responds.

“Yu-kun?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Chie.”

“Well… it’s really late. Or early, or something. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

“I will. Thank you.”

“G’night!”

I clap my phone closed and put it back on my bedside table. I think I needed that. All of a sudden I feel so tired, more tired than I can take. My eyelids collapse under their own weight. I think I’ll finally be able to go back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of _Memories of the City_! This is my first _Persona 4_ story. I love the game dearly and have wanted to write something in its universe for some time now, but I was waiting until I had a story worth telling. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> The first chapter is a bit shorter than the ones that will follow, but I think it accomplishes everything I set out to do with it. The story is told from Yu’s perspective roughly two and a half years after he left Inaba to move back to the city. We learn that he hasn’t made many new friends and feels like he may be losing touch with the ones he already has. He currently attends college alongside Yosuke, who has become something of a party animal, and is in a long-distance relationship with Chie.
> 
> The characterization of Yu as something of a loner is very interesting to me - the _Persona 4_ manga interpreted his character this way too, and if you didn’t notice, the first four lines of the chapter are actually quotes from “Shadow Yu” in the final episode of _Persona 4: The Animation_. He’s someone who didn’t socialize much prior to the events of the game and only really understood the importance of friendship after moving to Inaba. This will be a critical part of the story moving forward, though the full fruit of that may take some time to bear.
> 
> I paired Yu with Chie, but I don’t think of the story as a “Yu x Chie” fic or something like that. I’m not planning for the story to be about their relationship per se, it is but one part of it. I decided on Chie as his love interest not out of some personal preference for Chie (I’m a Yukiko fan, myself), but because I felt like her personal demons of feeling inadequate and alone meshed well with Yu’s, and I think it help sets up some other interesting situations you will see later on. I want no part in shipping wars, honest.
> 
> I’m currently planning for the format of the story to be episodic in a sense. There will be short, standalone slice-of-life stories tied together over time by an overarching plot. I have a pretty good idea where I’m going with the plot, but I don’t want to say too much. Please wait and see.
> 
> The title of the chapter, “Dreamless Dorm, Ticking Clock”, comes from (as any good _Persona_ fan should know) the opening line of the _Persona 3_ opening theme, _Burn My Dread_. It was a happy accident, the song didn’t inspire the chapter at all. I just happened to listen to the song while writing and realized it was a perfect fit. I’m plotting on making every chapter title have a musical allusion, so hopefully I won’t run out of songs to reference before I’m done!
> 
> Chapter two should be coming out next week, and if you’re a clever reader, you might find a hint in this chapter as to what it will be about. It will be quite a bit longer and, if I did my job right, a bit less depressing and a bit more humorous. Keep an eye out for it! In the mean time, thanks again for reading the first chapter, and I’ll see you next time.
> 
> \- Akinari
> 
> P.S. If you have any questions for me, feel free to comment here at AO3, or send me an ask on Tumblr at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com/ask - I won't spoil anything coming up, but I'm happy to hear from you!


	2. Vampires and Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yukiko decides to visit Yu and Yosuke for her birthday, but shouldn't she be celebrating in Inaba with her other friends and family?

**December 7, 2014**

“Rise and shine, partner!”

I wake up and my face is being smothered with a pillow. I can’t breathe and I don’t know what the hell’s going on. Choking and scared for my life, I blindly kick forward as hard as I can before realizing that, oh, it’s just Yosuke. I guess he finally came home. He drops the pillow and keels over on the edge of my bed, cupping his crotch with his hands. Hey, at least my aim was dead-on.

“Ow! Dude, what the hell?”

“You were suffocating me with a pillow.”

“Okay, fair point.” He grimaces a bit and stands. I look over at the clock - nine in the morning. I rub my heavy eyes and force myself to sit up and stretch. Yosuke’s got this look on his face that’s some kind of midpoint between excitement and groin pain. My head’s still reeling when he starts talking.

“So! Guess what day it is!” It’s the seventh of December, but maybe because I just woke up, I’ve got no clue what the significance of that is.

“Sunday?”

“It’s Yuki-chan’s birthday!” Uhh.

“That’s tomorrow. And I wouldn’t call her that to her face.” He ignores that last part.

“Yeah, but tomorrow’s Monday, so we’re celebrating it today, since we’ve all got the day off. She’s coming over this afternoon. And don’t say you aren’t coming along, because you totally are.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Sounds like a great excuse to get out of here for a while.

After high school, Yukiko went straight to work at the Amagi Inn, which means we don’t get to see her very often. I’m looking forward to catching up with her. I’ve heard second-hand info from Chie, of course, and we’ve spoken on the phone a few times, but that’s no replacement for actually being able to see her. Speaking of which, now that I think about it, something’s not right.

“Hey, Yosuke.”

“What’s up?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that Yukiko wants to visit us for her birthday?”

“I dunno. It’s been a while since we hung out, right? And, well, we are pretty cool dudes.”

“I won’t debate that, but still. It’s just you and me here, everyone else she knows is back in Inaba. Why wouldn’t she be celebrating there?”

“Maybe she’s bringing friends along. Chie didn’t say anything about it?”

“No.”

“Don’t know what to say, man. Ask her when she gets here.” I grab my phone from the bedside table — if anyone would know what’s going on, it would be Chie. Maybe I should email her and ask what’s up. So I fire off a message asking if she’s talked to Yukiko lately. I get a response about ten minutes later — “Dont want 2 get into it now, Ill tell u later.” That’s probably the most concerning response she could have given, but I know better than to press the issue. Besides, if Chie won’t tell me now, Yukiko probably will this afternoon.

——— 

The snow’s coming down hard. 

Yosuke had to get gas, so we arrive at the train station ten minutes late. Yukiko’s already waiting for us out front, her hair down, dressed in a thick brown jacket with a red scarf around her neck. Don’t tell Chie I said this, but she’s really quite beautiful. Yosuke and I hop out of the car to greet her; she meets us both with a hug and a warm smile. We hurry back to the car to escape the weather. She climbs into the backseat and loosens her scarf.

“Brr! I hate that my birthday’s in December, it’s always so cold.”

“No kidding,” Yosuke says back, “maybe you could call Amaterasu out here, Agidyne some of this snow away? It would definitely make driving way easier.” Yukiko lets out a giggle before Yosuke continues.

“Oh yeah, since this was kind of a short-notice thing, we don’t really have any plans for what to do or anything.” I look at him in confusion.

“How short-notice was this, exactly?”

“She called just before I woke you up.” I turn to the backseat to glare at Yukiko, but she dodges eye contact like a seasoned pro. Today just keeps getting better. Yosuke breaks the silence.

“You know what? How about we go back to the dorm and figure out what to do from there?”

“Sure!” Yukiko performs a cute little nod. So to the dorm we go.

———

I prepare some coffee to warm us up. Yosuke’s in the restroom and seems to be taking his sweet time. Yukiko’s sitting on the couch, so I pour us both a cup and sit next to her.

“How do you take yours?”

“Oh, I like mine black.” Definitely not the answer I expected from her. I chuckle and slide one of the mugs towards her. She takes an appreciative sip as I try to figure out the best way to approach the conversation. Luckily, she starts it off for me.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, Narukami-kun! How have you been?” I’m not really sure how to answer that.

“Busy, mostly. Lots of studying and part-time jobs.” She giggles.

“Yeah, the inn’s been keeping me busy, too. It’s the holiday season, so we’ve been getting lots of visitors.”

“So what brings you to Tokyo? I mean, aside from me and Yosuke, everyone else you know is back in Inaba, right?” She stares down into her coffee mug for a moment before responding.

“I just needed to get out of there for a while. I spend so much time at the inn that I feel like I’m overdue for a vacation. That, and… I kind of miss you guys.” The look in her eyes says there’s more to it than that, but Yosuke chooses that exact moment to come barging out of the bathroom and plop himself right between me and Yukiko, wrapping one arm around each of us. He turns to Yukiko first.

“So, Yukiko-chan! It’s your twentieth birthday, right?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Know what that means? You, my friend, are officially of drinking age!” Yukiko’s eyes light up. Damn it, Yosuke. I have to crash that party before it starts.

“Not until tomorrow, she isn’t.” I lean in to finish that thought in Yosuke’s ear. “Besides, you’ve seen how she is drunk, and she wasn’t even actually drunk.”

“Oh, come on, partner! Don’t be such a downer, there’s nothing wrong with some social drinking on your birthday! Right, Yukiko-chan?” She nods with an intensely serious expression.

“Then it’s settled! Don’t worry, I know a few places around town that won’t mind too much if your birthday’s not till tomorrow.” I do not question why Yosuke has this knowledge. Ignorance is bliss.

———

Even Yosuke’s concerned about how fast Yukiko is downing these drinks. We exchange uncomfortable glances across the bar as she gulps back another cocktail. I take a sip of water - I suspect I’ll have to be the designated driver. Between her earlier remarks about wanting to get away, and the ominous implications of Chie’s text earlier, I’m starting to get a terrible feeling about Yukiko’s mental state right now. Yosuke takes the initiative.

“Whoa there, Yukiko-chan! Keep that up and you won’t even remember being here by tomorrow.”

“I’m fiiiiine,” she replies, convincing no one. “I’m just gonna have one more! Two more! No. No! One more. Narukami-kuuuuun, what number comes between one and two?”

“Um, nothing?”

“Yeah! I’ll have that many.” She slaps her leg and starts laughing uncontrollably, and I can feel everyone’s judging stares turn towards us. Yosuke addresses the crowd.

“Don’t worry guys, she’s like this sober, too. Actually, that’s probably not very reassuring.” Yukiko slams her fist on the bar and looks towards Yosuke with fire in her eyes.

“Heeeeey, don’t talk about me like that, mister ressenta… resonta…”

“Ressentiment,” I finish.

“That one!”

“Dude, why did you help her?” Yosuke yells with a scowl. I look the other way and take another gulp of water before Yukiko keeps going.

“I’m fine! Really! I’m so, so sick of everyone telling me what to do. I’ve earned a night out to have some fun, okay? If you had to put up with the crap I’ve been dealing with you’d be drinking, too.” I’m getting really concerned now. I put my arm around her and try to comfort her.

“Come on, Yosuke and I are here for you. Don’t hold back, tell us what’s going on.” She takes one more swig of her drink and almost chokes on it.

“Oh, don’t try to be all smooth with me, Narukami-kun! I know your tricks. I bet Chie already told you allll about how I’m just soooo awful, right?”

“What? No, she never said—“ Yukiko’s wild giggling cuts me off.

“She can say whatever she wants, I don’t care. It’s my birthday! Happy birthdaaaay~, me.” She downs the rest of her glass. It’s way past time we cut her off from her alcohol, and a quick look at Yosuke tells me he agrees. I call for the tab as she glances over at Yosuke in surprise.

“Yosuke-kun! When did you get here?”

“Uh, the same time you did?”

“No waaaay!~ Yosuke-kun, I am so sorry, I was really mean to you earlier, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t mention it. No, really, please don’t.”

“Awwww, but I really am sorry! You’re so handsome, Yosuke-kun.” She leans towards him and starts running her hand up his leg, nearly triggering my gag reflex. Yosuke gets the dumbest grin on his face before I give him a death stare he’ll never forget, so he pushes her hand away and tells her off.

“Okay, Yukiko-chan, time to go!” We stand up to leave the bar, but Yukiko can barely sit upright, much less walk. I pick her up and carry her on my back while she mumbles incoherently in my ear all the way to the car. I sit her down in the backseat and buckle her up before calling out to Yosuke.

“Need me to drive?”

“You know, partner, I think I’ll be fine. How about I drive, and you stay in the backseat and keep an eye on her?”

“Good idea.”

It’s getting late. The snowflakes look like shooting stars against the night sky. Yukiko rests her head on my shoulder, which I’m thinking is because she can’t keep herself straight, not a sign of affection. It’s kind of disgusting being this close to her; she usually bears the sweet scent of cherry blossoms, but right now she just reeks of alcohol. It’s not even funny at this point, just pathetic. She wraps her arms around mine and closes her eyes, but she’s still awake, barely.

“Narukami-kun?” Her voice is soft and quiet, almost sing-songy.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you going out with Chie? She’s just like a boyyy.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

“It’s truuuue. And she’s so flat-chested.”

“She’s got a great ass, though.” Yukiko lets out a quiet giggle, but Yosuke’s reflection in the rearview mirror looks at mine like I’m a mad man.

“How do you go from being so serious and quiet to saying stuff like that all of a sudden? You scare me sometimes, man.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Yukiko tightens her grip around my arm.

“Maybe I’m just jealous,” she coos. After a few minutes, her grip loosens. I think she’s finally passed out.

———

Yukiko’s still unconscious once we get to the dorm, so I carry her in and lay her on the couch. She looks like she’ll be out for a while. I head back to my room and fall face-first onto my bed. Such a disaster of a night. The clock shows eleven at night - late, but not too late. I pull my phone out of my pocket and call the first number in my favorites. She picks up after two rings.

“Yu-kun! Hello!”

“Hey, Chie-chan.”

“What’s up?”

“We need to talk about Yukiko.” 

“W-why?” She sounds uncomfortable with that.

“Because she’s wasted and passed out on my couch right now.”

“Oh wow. Thank goodness.”

“What?”

“Ahh! I don’t mean, you know, ‘thank goodness she’s drunk and passed out’, but she went missing earlier today, and we’ve been looking all over for her! I’m so glad she’s safe.”

“She didn’t tell anyone she was going somewhere?”

“No! She was at the inn this morning and then she just disappeared! Her family and I were terrified she’d been kidnapped or something. We even called the police and everything.” Huh.

“You told me this morning there was something going with her that you didn’t want to get into. What’s that about?”

“Well, um… to be honest, I don’t know exactly what’s going on with her lately, either. She’s been super distant and weird, and she won’t tell me what’s bothering her. I’m really worried about her.” Sounds like there wasn’t a big argument or something, so that’s a relief. I probably shouldn’t tell Chie what Yukiko said about her. She continues, “So really, how did she end up at your place?”

“Yosuke got a call this morning saying she wanted to visit for her birthday. So we picked her up at the train station, went out to celebrate, and things got out of hand. I kind of thought something was off when Yosuke told me she was coming over, but I had no idea.”

“I’m just glad she’s with you guys. I’ve gotta call her family and tell them she’s alright. Please take care of her for me, okay?”

“Of course.” We exchange our I-love-yous and good-nights before hanging up. I tear the sheets off my bed and head back to the living room to find Yukiko still curled up on the couch. She’s all dressed up in her snow boots and jacket - that can’t be comfortable. I drop my sheets on the floor and move down to her feet to slip her boots off; she stirs a bit.

“Narukami-kun?”

“Just relax.” I loosen the laces and pull each boot off carefully, placing them by the door, before unbuttoning her jacket and sliding it over her shoulders. Her tired eyes watch me with fascination the whole time. I grab my bedsheets off the floor and gently lay them across the couch, tucking her in. As I pull the sheets up to her shoulders, she reaches out her hand and softly touches my cheek. She finally speaks up.

“You’re too sweet.”

With no response, I simply take her hand and place it on her stomach before walking back to my room and slumping onto my bare mattress. Regret immediately sinks in as I realize how ludicrously cold it is, but it’s too late to go back in the living room and take my sheets back. My mind overflows with more thoughts than it can handle in its exhausted state, so they’ll have to wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading chapter two of _Memories of the City!_ I had a lot of fun with this one; the previous chapter (and the next) get rather morose, and while this chapter has its fair share of melancholy, I wanted to make sure it was balanced out with some light-hearted moments. The club scene in the original _Persona 4_ is one of my favorite moments in the game and obviously served as a big inspiration for drunk-Yukiko this chapter. The alcohol this time was very real, though.
> 
> We see Yosuke for the first time in this chapter. He’s still very much Yosuke, I think. It was very hard not to use the “critical hit to the nads” line when Yu kicks him, but I felt like it would be too forced or obvious. I know I mentioned in the last chapter that he’s become a bit more distant and “outgoing”, but this chapter didn’t seem like the right time to go into that, so he seems pretty normal here, aside from a few little hints. I tried to give him a few funny moments, too. I’m particularly happy with the “she’s like this sober too” line.
> 
> While drunk-Yukiko was meant to be funny to some extent, there’s also some concerning undertones along with it. I played around with a couple of ideas for what happened that caused her to act like this. At one point she didn’t run away, she had just gotten in a fight with Chie and decided to celebrate elsewhere. I wanted to tie it in a bit more with her character, though, so…
> 
> The musical allusion this time is to the Wombats song _Tokyo (Vampires & Wolves)_, which just so happens to be about heading to a bar in Tokyo to drink your worries away. I think the lyrics fit on a couple of levels here, though that may not be clear until next chapter. I need to stop talking about next chapter!
> 
> Oh, and one last thing. I mentioned before that there was a hint last chapter as to what this one would be about, and yep, it’s the date. December 8 is Yukiko’s canonical birthday. I wasn’t sure which character’s story I wanted to tackle first when I sat down to write this, but I knew I wanted the story set sometime in late 2014, and her birthday just happened to align with some other things I was planning, so I went with it. I know the broad strokes of the plot, but I’m making up the details as I go! Hopefully it’s not too obvious.
> 
> I’m hard at work on making sure next week’s chapter is ready, and I’m really happy with how its coming along, so please look forward to it.
> 
> \- Akinari
> 
> P.S. If you have any questions for me, feel free to comment here at AO3, or send me an ask on Tumblr at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com/ask - I won't spoil anything coming up, but I'm happy to hear from you!


	3. The Dead Eternal Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yu and Yukiko share the day together and realize that they both want what the other has.

**December 8, 2014**

Ah, the sound of Yosuke’s snoring is music to my ears. Horrible, discordant music, but better than the alternative. I roll out of bed, wondering briefly where my sheets are before I remember. Seven in the morning, says the clock. My first class starts in two hours, so I head to the kitchen to start a batch of coffee. On my way, I notice Yukiko seems to be wide awake, perched on the couch, quietly watching the television. She greets me when I enter.

“Oh, good morning, Narukami-kun.” She smiles a sad smile.

“Morning, Yukiko-chan,” I half-yawn. She motions at me to come sit next to her, so I oblige. She stares down at her feet shamefully.

“It’s my birthday. It’s my birthday, and I had one chance to celebrate it with you, and I ruined it.”

“Don’t worry abou—“

“No.” She cuts me off and raises her head to look at me with determination in her eyes as mascara tears stream down her cheek. “I’ve been a trainwreck, Narukami-kun. I’ve been so awful to my family, and to Chie, and to you and Yosuke. I don’t even understand why.” After that she buries her head in my chest and stains my shirt with her tears. I don’t know what to do, I just hold her and run my fingers through her flowing black hair. When a few minutes pass, she finally pulls away from me and sniffles as she tries to rub her eyes dry.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes through a dry throat, “you have classes today, don’t you?”

“Afraid so.”

“I need to go home. I didn’t tell you this, but—“

“You ran away,” I interrupt, “didn’t you?” She freezes in surprise for just a second.

“… I did. It was stupid of me.” Glancing at the opposite wall, the clock points to half past seven. Mid-terms are coming up soon, so the classes are mostly review. After a moment of consideration, I figure, what the hell.

“You know what, Yukiko-chan, let’s spend the day together.” Her face glows for the first time.

“Really? But what about your classes?”

“There’s nothing today I can’t afford to miss. Besides, I can’t let your only memories of your twentieth birthday be getting piss-drunk and passing out on my couch, right?” She tackles me and hugs me tightly enough to squeeze the breath out of my lungs.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She’s crying again, but these tears are much less bitter. Let me tell you a secret: I live for moments like this. Nothing’s more satisfying, more fulfilling than overwhelming someone with joy so completely that they can hardly express it. Whatever inconveniences I may bear by skipping classes today, just her reaction right now makes it worth it. Is it selfish of me to do these kinds of deeds just to experience this feeling? She lets go and looks me straight in the eye.

“I’ll go get ready.” She’s so energetic, I wonder how long she’s been up. I still need to make some coffee before I can match that enthusiasm. She leaps up and skips to the bathroom for a shower, freeing me to head to the kitchen and start the coffeemaker. On her way she turns around with hesitation written on her face.

“I just realized, I don’t have a change of clothes or anything.”

“Not much we can do about that.”

“You’re right. I’ll just have to freshen myself up and hope for the best, then. Oh! And I don’t have any makeup, either…”

“I think Chie left a makeup kit here last time she visited, you could use that.”

“Do you think she’d mind?”

“Not at all, don’t worry about it. She’s your best friend, right?” She nods; that sad smile returns to her face as she continues to the bathroom.

———

I never appreciated before how beautiful Tokyo is in winter. Maybe because I grew up here, I always took it for granted, but today, watching the gentle descent of snowflakes mixed with the vibrant Shibuya city lights leaves an impression on me. Chie’s coming by tonight to pick Yukiko up and bring her home, so we have the whole day to spend. Unlike me, Yosuke can’t afford to skip any more classes, so just Yukiko and I walk together down bustling Dogenzaka Street, the sound of pedestrians’ chitchat and gossip drowned out only by the whoosh of cars zipping by. There’s a cafe here that I love. More than a simple coffee shop, they also have a laser cutter for people to craft their own art. Personally I don’t have the talent for it, but I enjoy admiring others’ creativity while I eat.  We stop there - I order a sandwich and marshmallow latte, while she opts for an iced tea, and we take a table by the window. She gazes outward at the people passing by.

“The city’s really pretty in the snow,” she sighs. “Inaba dies every winter. All the trees go barren, the river freezes over, everyone stays indoors. But this place still feels so alive.”

“Maybe that says something about your feelings towards Inaba.”

“I don’t know,” she speaks softly before sipping her tea. “I thought taking over the inn was what I wanted, right? But Chie always tells me about how amazing the city is, and you and Yosuke-kun are out here, and Naoto-kun’s always traveling, and Rise-chan’s all over TV, and… it makes Inaba feel so small. It makes _me_ feel small.” She takes another sip of tea, and I chuckle.

“It’s funny you say that. I’ll walk down the streets of Tokyo, bump into a thousand people as I go, look up at the towering skyscrapers all around me, and it all makes me realize how tiny I am. In Inaba everyone knew my name. Out here I’m no one.” She snickers dejectedly as she continues staring wistfully at the lively city streets.

“I guess the grass is always greener, huh?”

“Something like that.” I drink from my latte. “Is that why you ran away?”

“Yes. I had to go somewhere for a while. Anywhere but there. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You scared the hell out of Chie and your parents.” Her face goes pale.

“I didn’t really think it through. Please don’t think any less of me for it…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure her before taking a bite of my sandwich. That seems to cheer her up a bit. 

“Oh, by the way…” She fidgets, as if apprehensive about whatever she’s about to say. “I’m really sorry about all those nasty things I said about Chie last night. Please say you didn’t tell her.”

“Not a word.”

“Thank you. I think I’ve just been jealous of her.”

“How so?”

“Well, she seems so excited about her police training, and she’s always taking about coming to visit you, and how wonderful you are…” I had a feeling that’s where this was going.

“Yukiko-chan, you know there are a hundred guys in Inaba who fantasize about you, right?”

“But none of them are you.” Her eyes meet mine filled with sorrow and longing. That poor, sweet girl. She doesn’t understand.

“I’m not the knight in shining armor you think I am.” I close my eyes and take a long drink of my latte before continuing. “You’re looking for me to save you. To fill some void in your life, to protect you, to be your happiness. I can’t do that. No one can. Relationships don’t work that way.” My words may be harsh, but she needs to hear them. Her defeated look tells me she knows I’m right, too. She squeezes her cup tightly.

“But then, what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t think anyone really knows the answer to that.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“It is, isn’t it?” I suspect I’m not helping. “I’m sorry. I know I said we’d try to have fun today, and we still have plenty of time. But we’ve got to get all of this out of your system. I can’t let you go back home with it still eating away at you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She’s not crying, but she sniffles a little. “Thank you. I haven’t really talked about any of this with anyone else.”

“Talk to Chie about it, she’s been worried sick about you.”

“I’ve been so stupid, pushing her away. She’s too good to me.” I laugh.

“I know exactly what you mean.” That makes her giggle. There’s the Yukiko I know.

———

Yukiko’s absolutely fascinated by the plethora of shopping options in Shibuya, her eyes sparkling in awe as we pass each store. I knew she had been in Inaba all of her life, of course, but I guess it never really occurred to me before just how sheltered she really was. Her idea of big-city shopping is Okina City.

She comes to a stop outside of one boutique. A mannequin head sits in the window wearing a sterling-silver necklace with a cushion-cut ruby pendant, one which Yukiko clearly envies. I tap on her shoulder and tell her I need to use the restroom; she nods and waits outside as I head into the store.

I walk back out with a jewelry box, an eight-thousand yen hole in my bank account, and no regrets. The look in her eyes as she opens it, her smile as I carefully drape that glistening chain around her neck, is payment enough. That selfishness of mine rears its head again.

———

As the full moon rises, Yukiko and I pull up to Shibuya Station, which overflows with people, luggage, hopes, dreams. Even through such a thick crowd, I could spot that green jacket from a mile away. Six months have passed since I last saw it, but it might as well have been a lifetime. My stomach flutters and I feel like I’m thirteen years old again, so full of nerves I could burst. She turns around and our eyes lock and I want this moment to last forever, but it doesn’t. She battles her way through the horde and embraces Yukiko tightly.

“You idiot! Do you know how scared I was?” Chie’s tears stream onto Yukiko’s shoulders, each drop drying instantly in the frigid cold. Yukiko hugs back.

“I’m so sorry, Chie… I ju—“

“Shh,” Chie stops her short, “it doesn’t matter. We can talk about it later. I’m just so happy to see you.” She lets go of Yukiko and faces me. “And thank you so much for taking care of her.” It’s my turn. I wrap my arms around her small waist and kiss her softly on her lips. A bit chapped, but I don’t mind.

“You didn’t have to come out here, you know. She could’ve ridden the train by herself.”

“I know. But I was worried, and besides, I wanted to see you, too.” My eyes follow her hand as she reaches towards my head and runs her slender fingers delicately through my hair. “You’re getting shaggy.”

“Maybe a little,” I admit. It gets in my eyes a bit more than it used to. I bet hers does, too.

“I wish I could stay longer,” she continues, her eyes looking deep into mine with an intensity I’d almost forgotten. “You’re still coming over for Christmas, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She ties her toned arms around my neck and tiptoes to kiss me, the warmth of her body making the cold just a bit more tolerable. I’ve missed her. I didn’t appreciate how _much_ I missed her until just now. She whispers into my ear, “I love you,” before letting me go. Yukiko gives me a hug of her own.

“Thanks for everything, Narukami-kun. Chie’s very lucky to have you.” Chie’s cheeks flush with embarrassment as she hastily tears Yukiko away from me.

“Okay Yukiko, we’ve got a train to catch!” She grabs Yukiko by the arm and runs off, leaving me there to watch the two of them get further and further away. Even once they disappear entirely, I can’t bring my eyes away from where they were, as if staring long enough will make them come back.

But they don’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Once again, thanks for reading the third chapter in _Memories of the City_. I really love this one, there’s so many sweet moments between Yu and Yukiko. Even though Yu’s going out with Chie, I’ve actually shown more cute scenes with him and Yukiko so far, haven’t I? That will be fixed eventually! In a way, I think having Chie so out of the picture evokes what it’s really like to be in a long-distance relationship.
> 
> It may feel like Yukiko’s retreading ground she already dealt with in _Persona 4_ , but that’s actually the point. Facing your Shadow isn’t about getting rid of it, it means accepting that it’s part of you. And really, that part of us never goes away. Even years later, Yukiko still has doubts, sometimes overwhelming doubts. You can keep them down, you can find ways to overcome them, but every now and then something might bring those problems boiling back up to the surface. Personally, I really relate to Yukiko’s struggle. I too came from a small town where I felt trapped and longed to escape.
> 
> I also find Yukiko’s ideas about relationships interesting. Her Shadow talked so much about how she wants some amazing prince to just come sweep her off her feet and save her from her life at the inn, and that’s a really toxic way to think about relationships, isn’t it? You see this often in both real life and fiction, where someone romanticizes another person so much they can’t really see them for who they are, and they imagine that this person can save them and give their lives some sort of new meaning. They conflate their imagined, idealized version of their romantic interest with the flawed human being they really are. Yukiko does exactly this to Yu, and Yu knows it, and on some level Yukiko knows it too.
> 
> Yu’s commonly portrayed as something of a playboy, so I think it’s fun to tie him down to one girl. Especially in a long distance relationship, where we know he’s not really getting everything out of it that he needs. I think, maybe, he’s so happy to be close and sweet to Yukiko because he’s lonely. He misses Chie, and Yukiko’s the closest thing he’s had in a while. He’s not honestly interested in her romantically, even if he was single, but I suspect he feels selfishly happy when she’s hugging him, crying into his chest, and complimenting him.
> 
> The chapter title this time is from a Bright Eyes song, _If Winter Ends_ , from their 1998 album _Letting Off the Happiness_. There were actually a couple of song allusions I bounced between before finally landing on this one. I feel like the song really represents Yukiko’s emotions this chapter, trapped in her own misery in the dead of winter, drinking to take her mind off of it, praying for someone or something to take her away from it all. I think, in many ways, Yu feels the same way. Once again, the song didn’t really inspire the chapter, at least consciously. But when I was flipping through potential songs it just fit so well. (EDIT: 9/29/2014: I just remembered that Yukiko's name also means "snow child", so, wow, great job, subconscious!)
> 
> The next chapter is coming along well! I struggled a bit when I started writing it, but everything’s really falling into place and I’m quite happy with how it’s shaping up. With Yukiko going home, of course, the focus of the story will shift about, hopefully in an interesting way. Keep an eye out for it! Thanks again for reading, and I’ll see you next week.
> 
> \- Akinari
> 
> P.S. If you have any questions for me, feel free to comment here at AO3, or send me an ask on Tumblr at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com/ask - I won't spoil anything coming up, but I'm happy to hear from you!


	4. Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yosuke can't bear to watch Yu waste away and decides to confront him about it. This chapter contains depictions of domestic violence.

**December 9, 2014**

Each day I walk around campus surrounded by hundreds, thousands of other students, ants in a farm. I’m not friends with any of them and for whatever reason I feel completely indifferent to that. Like I’m okay _existing_ while everyone else _lives_. Perhaps my mind finds enough to be occupied with during classes that it simply doesn’t bother me. That’s how I felt before I went to Inaba, too. Indifferent. Apathetic. Dead. It was only there that I felt alive.

 

**December 10, 2014**

But at night, when I get home, that’s a different story. It’s a two-bedroom dorm, but more often than not, I’m the only resident. Without anything or anyone to distract me, keeping my thoughts under control becomes impossible. That’s the worst part about being alone - how much time it gives me to think, and how little it gives me to think about. So my mind wanders to painful places, dark places. I never really faced my Shadow self like everyone else, but if I had to guess what he would be like, it would be my imagination every night as I stare at my bedroom ceiling.

 

**December 11, 2014**

Sometimes I’m haunted by the sight of my closest friends sacrificing their lives to save mine; the way they struggle as those disembodied arms drag them down into hell, their screams echoing in my ears. Would they still do the same? Would _I_ do the same for them? Sometimes it’s the little things that keep me up at night, like the way Yosuke sighs when I tell him I’d rather stay home. The way I stare at my phone on the table, waiting, hoping for it to spring to life with an email. That time Daisuke messaged me and I never responded. I thought he didn’t care anymore, but maybe that’s just in my head? Maybe all of this is just in my head.

 

**December 12, 2014**

And before I know it, the week has gone by so fast, and all I’ve done is attend class and feel sorry for myself. Have I told you I’ve invented a perpetual motion machine? My id’s self-pity is picked up on by my super-ego, who knows that my id is being pathetic, which turns into self-hatred, which leads to more self-pity, creating a vicious cycle of wonderful depression. I love my brain.

Once I get off the train after my last class, around five o’clock, I walk into the dorm and toss my bag on the couch. Yosuke’s home, watching some creepy gravure idol video. He lunges for the remote as soon as I walk in and changes to a reality show about nurses, which is really kind of a lateral move. Realizing this, he shuts the TV off altogether before turning to me.

“Yo, partner. We need to talk.” Four words no one ever wants to hear, that never mean anything good. He’s not going to take no for answer, though, so I take a seat on the couch. He straightens himself up and continues.

“Look, I know I haven’t exactly been the greatest friend in the world lately, and I feel pretty bad about that, and I’m sorry. But I’m not totally dumb. I can tell you’ve been really out of it. So, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I blurt out immediately.

“Come on, don’t do that.”

“No, really. Nothing’s going on. That’s the problem. I don’t do anything, I don’t know anyone, I don’t go anywhere.” He reclines in his chair and exhales sharply, rubbing his temples.

“Well, I’ve noticed you haven’t really hung out with anyone else since we’ve been here. And I’ve asked you to hang out with me and my friends, and you always turn me down. There’s gotta be something more, right? Aren’t you the guy every chick at Yasogami drooled over?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like that was me.”

“Dude, you’ve got such huge balls an idol wanted to date you, and you turned her down.”

“I know.”

“You literally _killed a god_. Like, holy shit.”

“I know.”

“So pull yourself together! What’s stopping you from getting out there and conquering Tokyo like you did Inaba? I know you haven’t become a total loser, I heard about your little trip with Yukiko. Guys like me _dream_ of having that much game, and you weren’t even trying!”

“That’s different.”

“How?” Not a question easily answered.

“We’re already friends. I know her, I’m comfortable around her.”

“Yeah, you are _now_ , but you weren’t alwa—”

“You’re right, okay?” His badgering is growing tiresome. “I get it. I’ve changed. So what? Am I supposed to just flip a switch in my head and go back to being me? It’s not that simple. It’s like, after I left Inaba, something in me died. I forgot how to make friends. I just felt alone and miserable and wanted what I had before back. Like I’m stuck and can’t move forward.” The air chills as an uncomfortable silence suffocates the room. This is the first time I’ve ever tried putting my mindset of the past few years into words. After a while Yosuke leans forward, letting loose a long sigh.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be confrontational or anything. Just worried about you, man.” He reaches an arm out and pats me on the back. “I think I get how you feel. When I first moved to Inaba, it was kind of like that. Nobody wanted to be friends with me, with Junes killing the local stores and all. All I wanted was to get out of the boonies and back to the city.” That’s the reverse of the problem I’m having, but I understand what he’s getting at.

“Is that really it, though? Just longing for the past?”

“Hey, man, when you’ve saved the world and killed the goddess of creation at seventeen, maybe everything after that’s downhill.”

Maybe he’s right.

———

It’s eight o’clock as I walk down the block, the clamor and noise of the city crushing my loneliness through sheer volume. Going for a stroll has proven itself a consistent way to escape my own head. The harsh cold of winter has dampened that comfort as of late, but tonight the snow had the decency to let up long enough for me to go out. I’m not necessarily walking anywhere in particular. It’s about the journey, not the destination.

About two blocks later, I come across a smoking area in a side alley, tobacco clouds fogging the streetlights. An empty bench seat beckons to my tired legs, which drag me towards the bench before taking a seat. I reach into my coat pocket and slip a cigarette from its pack - yes, I admit it, I have my vices. Perhaps Dojima-san was a bad influence on me. All I know is that nothing clears the maelstrom of misery in my head like filling it with smoke. That’s what’s always turned me off about alcohol, the intoxication. Smoking clears my head, not addles it.

Sitting on the opposite bench is a bickering couple, arguing over who knows. For all the noise they’re generating, little of it is coherent. Most of the crowd, simply wishing to enjoy their suicidal tobacco addictions, keeps their distance, but I watch them intently. He’s six foot three or so, I’d say, very fit, narrow eyes, wearing a beanie hat that I’m betting she knit for him. She’s minuscule in comparison, probably five foot nothing, full eyes, a bruise on her cheek that I’m betting he gave her. They keep at it for a while, right until my cigarette burns down to the butt. I donate its corpse to the nearest ashtray as I walk away to resume my—

_Smack._

A scream. My head jerks around, and there’s that couple again. She’s pinned to the bench as he wails on her, his fists almost rhythmically beating against her tear-soaked face. Blood splatters from his knuckles every time he raises his arm. Everyone in the vicinity backs away at best, runs in terror at the worst. I can barely stand to watch. Should I do something? What can I do? He’s bigger than me. Stronger, certainly. No doubt he’ll kick my ass. I’m not exactly in top form these days to begin with. Besides, it’s not my problem.

That’s what I have to tell myself. I can’t save everyone. So I keep walking, desperately struggling to think of something, anything, to take my mind off of what I just saw. With a deep breath, I pull my phone from my pocket to check the time. 8:42. As I glance at my phone, I notice that tattered wristband on my arm, one I’ve worn nearly every day for three years now. So often that I hardly even think of it, but suddenly its faded, colored stripes remind me of something important. Someone important. Someone who would never forgive me for what I just did.

———

It’s the rain that wakes me, but it’s the blistering pain that picks me up off the concrete. I sit up only to keel over before wiping my gloved hand across my face, smudging it with a muddy mixture of rainwater and blood. With no clue what the hell is going on, my eyes dart around my surroundings, a mostly-deserted smoking area in Shibuya. Oh, right. That’s what happened.

_“Run!”_

I screamed, staring deep into her blackened eyes as I strangled her boyfriend in a chokehold, and run she did. But my chokehold merely bought time. I knew before I started that I wasn’t really strong enough to take this guy on - I was right. Through sheer upper body strength he lifted me up and threw me against the pavement, making it a miracle he didn’t break my back. My last clear memory is of his bloodied fists thrashing my bloodied face, with no one around even trying to stop him.

Rain, though? The forecast didn’t call for rain, and besides, with this freezing cold, shouldn’t it be snow? Hail? Whatever. More importantly, how long have I been out? Reaching into the coat pocket where my phone resides reveals that my face wasn’t the only thing that guy smashed to bits. Normally, I wouldn’t care - I’m long overdue for a new phone anyway - but it’s really the cherry on top of the fecal sundae that has been today.

Standing straight proves to be no small feat; every limb, every muscle in my body, shrieks in pain as I force myself upright. At least my legs seem mostly intact. Fortunate, since I’ll need them to carry me home. People cast their judging glares on my busted face as if I did something wrong, but shouldn’t that be the other way around? No one else bothered helping that girl. They sure as hell didn’t bother helping me.

The rain doesn’t let up. My hair drips in my eyes as I stumble down the sidewalk back towards the dormitory. I feel stupid for not bringing an umbrella, though I don’t know why, since there’s no way I could have known there’d be rain. Worst of all, I think I can feel a cold coming on already. Just when I thought I’d hit rock bottom.

Out of nowhere, someone dressed up in a lavish double-breasted suit bumps into me. Not the casual sort of bump you expect on a crowded street, but a powerful, deliberate push to the shoulder, forceful enough to nearly knock my already-weakened frame down. I falter before regaining my balance, but the culprit keeps walking, briskly, like nothing happened. So I turn around, eager to give that asshole a furious glare they’ll never forget, when my aggressor stops mid-stride and tilts their head towards me. 

I know that curly, silver hair. Those piercing, devil-red eyes. No. _No_. It can’t be. This can’t be happening. Especially not tonight. My head must still be spinning from that beating I took, I’m not thinking straight. Still, my heart skips a beat, two beats.

Then I blink, and she’s gone. Disappeared, into thin air. And just as soon as she vanishes, the pitter-patter of the rain fades to silence. The disgusting feeling of damp fabric against my skin tells me there’s no way I just imagined all that. But God, I still hope I did.

———

“Holy crap, dude! What happened?”

Too exhausted to even answer Yosuke’s question, I just droop onto the couch without even taking off my shoes. He pulls them off for me before running to the freezer, dumping some ice cubes into a sandwich bag, and then wrapping the bag in a washcloth before handing it to me. After pressing the ice to my face long enough for the pain to numb a bit, I gather the strength to speak up, barely.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Seriously though, what the hell?”

“I got in a fight.”

“Man, that just raises even more questions.”

I cough, spewing blood across the chest of my still drenched coat. These ice-cold, soaking wet clothes have to go, but even standing up is beyond my current ability. Taking the hint that I’m not up for further conversation, Yosuke heads to the bathroom to grab some towels, which he hastily stuffs in the dryer. Yet another surprising piece of knowledge he possesses. After ten minutes or so, he pulls the freshly warm towels out of the dryer and raises my back and legs to wrap them around me, providing sweet, sweet relief from my freezing, soggy attire. A few minutes of both freezing my bloody face and warming up the rest of my body provides the strength I need to sit upright. Yosuke takes note and resumes his conversation.

“Feeling any better?”

“A bit. Thanks again, by the way. How did you know to do all that?”

“Do what?”

“The ice, the towels.”

“Oh,” his cheeks flush as he averts his eyes. “From my mom. I… well, I got beat up a lot when I was a kid. Like, a lot.”

“You never told me that.”

“Really?” He truthfully seems surprised. “I dunno, I guess I didn’t want you to think I was a loser.”

“I don’t think that would have made a difference.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He forces a pained expression as I snicker.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not like I’m not a loser.”

“Stop talking about yourself like that. You’re the coolest guy I know. No one else thinks as badly of you as you think they do.”

Maybe he’s right. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it to chapter four of _Memories in the City!_ When I first started writing this chapter, I wanted it to be a sort of break between the Yukiko story arc and another one, but it really evolved into its own little story, didn’t it? The original idea was to show how trapped Yu was in his own mind, but two thousand words of constant angst doesn’t make for fun reading, or fun writing, for that matter. Plus, the opening chapter did a good enough job of that, I think. So I decided to break up the depression with bits of things actually happening. It’s important to avoid being overwhelmingly cynical and depressing, or else it comes off as childish and teenage angst-y.
> 
> Yosuke’s little conversation with Yu was a joy to write. Yosuke’s trying, in his own Yosuke way, to cheer Yu up, but he’s not very good at it. Telling someone with depression to stop being so depressed is about the most useless thing you can say, and it hurts more than it helps. His heart’s in the right place, but Yosuke’s not very good with handling feelings, is he? His line about life having nowhere to go but down after you’ve become more powerful than a god was really fun to come up with, and accidentally ended up being a thesis statement for this whole story! Oops.
> 
> The second half of the chapter took me a long time to really nail down. I finished writing the first half with Yu and Yosuke’s dialogue and then had basically no clue where to go with it. At one point Yosuke was going to take Yu out to a party to cheer him up, but I wanted something a bit more subdued, more focused on just Yu. So then Yu decided to go for a walk to clear his head, but I needed a spark to take that and make it more interesting. And suddenly, out of nowhere, it all fell into place. It’s a great feeling when writer’s block lifts and everything comes together like that.
> 
> I’m not sure what inspired the fighting couple, to be honest, just that it’s an idea that came into my head and felt like a great fit for what I wanted to do with Yu this chapter. A big part of how he’s changed since _Persona 4_ is how cynical he’s become. So much of _Persona 4_ is about the strength and potential of humanity, but Yu’s not so optimistic these days. He still tries to be a good person, of course. He hasn’t totally become Adachi. But watching everyone else just run away or stare agape as a man beats his girfriend in public wouldn’t be good for anyone’s opinion of humanity.
> 
> The chapter title this time is _The Fog_ , named for Izanami’s battle music in _Persona 4_. I always try to pick songs that fit the chapter in multiple levels, and this might be my favorite so far. I love the use of fog as symbolism in the original game, as something that shrouds the truth and obscures the unwanted. In addition to the obvious implications of giving this particular chapter that particular name, there’s also the little things. When I first had the idea of Yu being a smoker, the symbolism of cigarette smoke as fog didn’t even occur to me. I just thought it’d look cool. Sometimes things work out better than expected, don’t they?
> 
> As always, please feel free to comment on this chapter or send me an ask at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com if you have any questions or critiques! I’d love to hear them. In the meantime, I’m hard at work on the next chapter, so hopefully I’ll see you next week.
> 
> \- Akinari


	5. Homeward Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas comes to Inaba only once a year, but at least Yu gets to go twice. Assuming the universe is willing to give him even a fleeting moment of happiness, which, to be fair, is quite the assumption.

**December 21, 2014**

“Dude, no smoking on the train!” Yosuke rips the cigarette right out of my hand as the train doors close and accidentally tears it apart in the process. He’s right, though he could’ve just told me that. I’m just anxious, I think. That’s not to say I’m not looking forward to this trip. That I haven’t been longing for it, counting the days. But now that it’s finally here, now that I can feel the rumble of the train as it sets off, my nerves refuse to settle. I need a smoke, okay?

Six months have passed since our last trip to Inaba. Summer break, because summer and winter are the only opportunities I really have. And yes, I visit at every possible opportunity. Most students visit their parents during the breaks, I suppose, but with my parents’ migration patterns, Inaba’s the closest thing I’ve got to a home. Funny how I only lived there for a year, yet it’s more dear to me than anywhere else.

“So, partner!” Yosuke decides to start the trip with a conversation. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back?”

“Bury my face in a futon at Dojima-san’s house, probably.”

“Hey, come on, you don’t have to lie to me. I know you’re just itching to visit Chie, right?”

“Of course, but she’s busy today. We’ve got a room booked at the Amagi Inn in a few days.” His eyes widen in awe.

“Wow, man, you’re really going all-out for this trip, huh? Hey, if you’re staying at the Amagi Inn, you should invite Yuki-chan to your room. I bet she’d totally be down for a thr—“ My elbow, knowing where that sentence is leading, instinctively rams itself into Yosuke’s crotch. He groans sorrowfully as he curls into the fetal position.

“Dude,” he croaks through the pain, “if you keep doing this, one day I’m gonna end up sterile.”

“You do it to yourself.” With no comeback to that, he pulls himself upright and reaches into his bag to pull out a gaming handheld, which I suppose he engrosses himself in to take his mind off the pain. A vibration in my pocket alerts me to a new message from Chie, asking if the train has left yet. Since I had to replace my old phone, I got one of those touchscreen smartphones that apparently everyone else has used for years. And, okay, this is kind of embarrassing, but I still haven’t gotten used to the touch keyboard thing, so my fingers fumble a bit while I type out this reply. Yosuke can’t hide his judging smirk.

Sigh. Train rides seldom provide much entertainment, and this one appears no different. If a walk is about the journey, a train trip is about the destination. Just the act of walking gets your blood pumping, oxygen flowing. It calms you down, relaxes you, relieves your stress and tension. You walk for walking’s sake. A train ride is a means to an end, just you and your ass on a seat for hours waiting for it to be over. So I pull my headphones out of my bag, plug them into my phone, and play a song to pass the time.

———

The train comes to a sudden halt, jolting me awake from my nap. Yosuke looks away from his game long enough to react.

“What the hell’s going on?” A voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention, passengers. Due to severe weather, our trip will be delayed until the storm has passed. We apologize for any inconvenience this delay has caused and promise to continue the trip as soon as conditions permit.”

Gazing out the window, the snow pounds against the glass as if trying to break in. Shit. The universe continues its ongoing quest to keep me from that which makes me happy. Guess I should give Dojima-san a heads up that the train is running late.

“Damn it,” Yosuke’s glaring at his phone. “No signal.” Yep, mine’s got no bars too. Then Yosuke decides to stand up and stretch himself across the aisle to push his phone to the window in desperation, squishing me against my seat. All to no avail, of course. But then I see something, a blue glow against the white fog of the snow. As it grows closer, I can make out its form - a butterfly. How is it not getting crushed in this snowfall?

“Yosuke, do you see that?”

“That my phone is getting full bars now? Hell yeah!” He takes his seat again and places a call.

“No, I mean the —“

“Hey dad! Listen…” His attentions are elsewhere. I ought to be making a call myself, yet instead I just gaze out the window at the butterfly, and somehow I feel like it gazes also at me. Haven’t I seen a butterfly like this, years ago? Butterflies don’t live that long, right? But I can’t imagine there’s a whole species that glows such a brilliant blue. So I keep my eye on it as I make a call to Dojima-san.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dojima-san. It’s Yu.”

“Oh, hey. What’s going on? Did you make it on to the train okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m on it right now. Just letting you know, we’re going to be late. There’s a serious snowstorm going on outside, and our train’s stuck here in the middle of nowhere until it passes.”

“Sheesh. Sorry to hear that. Make sure to tell me when it gets moving again.”

As I end the call, the butterfly gazes at me just a second longer before turning around and flying away, its azure light fading into the endlessness of white. I’m watching it grow fainter and fainter in the distance when Yosuke swears beside me.

“Hello? Hello?! Crap.” He lowers his phone from his ear and frowns at the screen. “No service again.” A quick peek at my phone tells me that my signal is gone, too. Wait a second. It’s almost as if — no way. That’s ridiculous. _I’m_ ridiculous for thinking that. Although, now that I say that, it’s not really the craziest thing I’ve ever seen, is it?

———

After two or three eternities, the snow finally decides to cut us a break, and thus the train continues its forward march. Inaba’s not big enough to have a train directly from Shibuya to Yasoinaba Station, of course, so Yosuke and I have to transfer after about two hours, and then transfer again an hour later. Ah, the joys of public transportation.

It’s around eight in the evening when we reach our final stop and part ways. Six months seems like an increasingly shorter length of time every year, but right now it feels infinite. Each step I take through Yasoinaba Station brings back memories of lifetimes past, of a world so utterly separate from the one I inhabit in Tokyo. Of faces and places so sharp in my memory that contrast the blur of everyone and everywhere else. As I descend the steps in front of the station, two of those faces lock eyes with mine, and one of them squeals with delight.

“Big bro!” Nanako rushes towards me and wraps her little arms around my waist - I swear she’s grown, even since last I saw her. Her hair’s certainly getting long, draping down her back like a little princess. I know I’ve been grossly cynical lately, but I can’t help but smile as I return the hug. So rarely do I get to be the subject of pure, innocent adoration, it’s easy to forget such a thing exists. Perhaps it won’t in Nanako for much longer, but for now she is young, and young is a wonderful thing to be.

Dojima-san, cigarette in hand as always, grins broadly and walks towards me. I study his face, realizing that each time I visit, his hair gains another grey patch; his face, another wrinkle. But his aging suits him, providing him an air of ruggedness, of maturation. We exchange a firm handshake.

“You’re looking good,” he comments as his eyes give me a once-over, judging my health and fitness. “You could use a haircut, though.”

“I’d comment about how grey yours is getting, but I’m not one to talk.” He chuckles, patting me on the back. Nanako gazes up at me, eyes wide.

“How long are you staying, big bro?”

“Well, I’ll be in Inaba for a week! But I’m going to spend a few days with Chie, too.” She averts her eyes and dulls her smile when I mention Chie. Huh?

“O-oh.”

“Don’t worry, though! I’ll spend as much time with you as I can, okay?” She struggles to smile and nods. Aww. Is she jealous?

———

As Dojima-san drives us home, my eyes simply gaze out the window at the familiar sights of the town. I struggle to find the words to articulate it any better than this, but ever since the first time I stepped foot in Inaba, it evoked a strong feeling of nostalgia, like a childhood home once forgotten, a memory from a previous life. Sounds ridiculous, I know - how can somewhere feel nostalgic on your first visit? - but it’s the best description I can come up with. Perhaps Inaba is the ideal of small-town rural life given form, the kind of small, peaceful place that could only be depicted in television shows and books and yet defiantly exists. It’s the twinkle in a child’s eyes and the wisdom in an elder’s.

Only a drive down the derelict shopping district serves as a reminder that Inaba falls short of being pure fantasy. Even Daidara’s and the Shiroku Store have finally fallen to the might of the almighty Junes. Only Marukyu Tofu, Tatsumi Textiles, and Aiya remain standing, with the ridiculous popularity of the proprietor’s daughter, Kanji, and those damned delicious meat bowls, respectively, likely being their sole saving graces. Though really, Chie’s insatiable lust for beef alone may be enough to keep Aiya in business. I also can’t help but pay attention when we pass by the gas station, especially after what I saw a few weeks ago, but no one’s there. A relief, I suppose.

Not long after, we finally arrive at the Dojima residence. A wave of calm rushes over me as I step through the front door and take off my shoes. Nothing has changed here in three years. If Nanako weren’t taller and Dojima-san weren’t older, I could almost imagine that no time passed at all. There’s still that old television in the corner, the couch opposite. A familiar kotatsu resting in between. Home.

“Oh, by the way,” Dojima-san points towards the kitchen table, where several boxes of Marukyu tofu lay neatly packaged, begging to be opened. My stomach growls, reminding me that I have yet to overcome my need to ingest food every now and then, and I become immensely aware both of how hungry I am and how long that train ride lasted. “I bet you’re probably pretty hungry after that trip, aren’t you?”

He knows me too well. So we eat dinner and have idle conversation. He asks me how college is going, I fabricate stories of friends I don’t have and adventures that never occurred. The usual. Afterwards, I climb the stairs and enter my bedroom; yet another place that hasn’t changed, sans the wall calendar. Dojima-san preserves the room the way I leave it each visit, only entering to dust and keep it tidy, a fact I appreciate more than he knows. Even the hand-crafted models on the shelves and the clutter of the desk remain static.

Is this healthy for me? It occurs to me, for the first time, how much of an escapist fantasy this whole situation is. My whole problem is that I’m stuck longing for the past, unable to move on, and here I am fetishizing that past, wrapping myself in a security blanket of familiar surroundings. How am I supposed to escape from these memories that chain me down when I practically cuff myself to them?

You know what, forget it. Even if I have a point, and I probably do, I’m not going to beat myself up over this tonight. Coming here is one of the few things still capable of making me genuinely, incredibly happy, and I refuse to let my fucked-up psychology ruin it. So I open my suitcase, change into some night clothes, and fall face-first into my futon. Good night, cruel world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! First of all, let me open these author notes with an apology, and a notice. If you’ve been reading this far, you’ve probably noticed this chapter was rather late to publication. While I’ve always been clear that I may not be able to keep a regular weekly schedule, I’ve certainly tried my best up until now, and obviously failed to meet that expectation with this chapter. Unfortunately, I’ve simply been terribly busy in real life the past few weeks and will likely continue to be busy for the forseeable future, so while I will still try to update _Memories of the City_ as often as possible and do not intend to discontinue writing it anytime soon, I’m afraid I can’t provide any kind of consistent schedule at the moment. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> The fifth chapter of our story brings Yu and Yosuke back to Inaba for their winter break. The first half of the chapter is simply a train ride, which is a very difficult thing to write in an interesting way. Much like last chapter, I decided to take this opportunity to start setting up some upcoming plot events. If you’ve played any of the Persona titles, you’re likely familiar with the blue butterfly, and more dedicated fans (particularly of the first two Persona games) may even know the identity of the butterfly. That latter bit of info is something _Persona 3_ and _Persona 4_ never really go into, but… well, I don’t want to say too much, other than keep reading.
> 
> Aside from that, the central theme of the chapter is Yu’s adoration of and infatuation with Inaba. While Yu had some semblance of personality in the original _Persona 4_ \- and he’s given a slightly deeper characterization in spinoff media, like _The Animation_ and _Arena_ \- he’s still very much a player surrogate. Keeping that in mind, I think _Persona 4_ is deeply designed to evoke within the player a deep emotional attachment with Inaba and its inhabitants. Inaba in particular is designed to feel like the perfect, peaceful small town, and frankly to serve as an escapist fantasy for its players. You can live in this perfect little town, you can make friends with everyone and acquire a harem and save the world. It’s a video game.
> 
> So I wanted to give the Yu of my story the same kind of connection with the world and characters that I think the designers of the game wanted the players to have, but I wanted to play on that a little. Because Inaba isn’t perfect, and growing too attached to anything is bad for your mental health. A lot of _P4_ players comment that they feel a bit empty inside after finishing the game, as if now that the game is finally over, they’re having to leave behind something special and personal to them. Of course, for most players, they move on, as _P4_ is but a game, but for our Yu, that’s his real life. He has formed this incredible bond with this town and all these people, and he’s having to move on and grow up, and he’s struggling deeply with that. In many ways, that’s the central conflict of the whole story I’m trying to tell, and I hope I can do justice to the resolution.
> 
> The chapter title here comes from the Simon and Garfunkel song of the same name. I felt like the lyrics and music of the song fit well with Yu’s attitude towards heading back to Inaba - sitting in a train station, waiting to leave, tired of seeing stranger’s faces everyday and longing to return home. I realized only after writing this chapter and hitting publish that it has a double meaning - Yu also feels "bound" to his home in Inaba. My subconscious is much more clever than I am.
> 
> As always, I’m hard at work on plotting out the next chapter. I’m afraid I don’t have an estimate as to when it will be ready, but please keep your eyes open! In the meantime, as always, please feel free to comment on this chapter or send me an ask at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com if you have anything you want to tell me. Thanks again so much for reading, and I’ll see you next chapter.
> 
> \- Akinari


	6. Waiting for the World to End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as Yu would like to spend his vacation thinking of anything other than his problems, there's one thing he needs to be sure of before he can truly relax.

**December 22, 2014**

I don’t know what the hell Yukiko was talking about. Inaba in winter comforts me, warms me from the chilling winds. Each snowflake on my face is a kiss from this town to me, each footprint I leave a fleeting record of my time here. If this is what she considers death, then please, by all means, murder me. I’d rather be dead.

When I awoke this morning and headed downstairs, I found Dojima-san, Nanako, and breakfast already ready and awaiting my arrival. Breakfast consisted of steamed rice and miso soup - a bit traditional, but that’s what I love about it. As we dined against the backdrop of the morning news, Dojima-san planned out my itinerary.

“So, you’re going to the Amagi Inn with Chie tomorrow?”

“Yeah, from tomorrow till Christmas.”

“And then you’ll be staying here again until New Year’s, right?”

“You got it.”

“Big bro,” Nanako wondered aloud, “what are you and Chie gonna do all that time?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Nanako’s eyes filled with even more curiosity as Dojima-san’s face debated between rage and amusement. Nanako pressed forward.

“So if you’re gonna be gone tomorrow, won’t you spend the whole day with us?” She gazed at me, overflowing with hope, hope that unwittingly twisted around my heart and choked it - I knew that I’d have to let her down.

“Sorry, Nanako-chan, but I have some errands to run today.”

“Oh,” she mumbled quietly, staring painfully into her soup bowl.

“But when I come back from the Inn, I’ll be spending the rest of my vacation here! So we’ll have plenty of time to have fun, okay?” She forced herself to smile, but yet again I can tell she expected something more. I wished I could find the words to tell her I know how she feels, how much I wish I had more time, how important she is to me. But we just kept eating in silence.

———

So I walk down the derelict shopping district, full of empty buildings and broken dreams, my destination one of the few stores still standing. On other trips I’ve visited purely for leisure, but today I have business to attend to. Not the kind of business the shop normally deals with. As I enter the old textile shop, the warm smile of an elderly woman greets me with a bow. I return the favor.

“Good morning, Tatsumi-san. I hope you’ve been well.” 

“Ah, Narukami-kun, thank you. Good to see you again. You should come by more often.”

“I’d love to, but I live in Tokyo now.”

“Oh yes, I forgot, silly me. Once a city boy, always a city boy! Are you here to see my Kanji?”

“I am! Is he in?”

“He certainly is. Let me go fetch him for you, dear.” She heads to the back as I take a glance around the store. On a corner shelf sits a carefully-arranged row of stuffed animals, meticulously hand-crafted by the man I’m here to visit. Or one of the men, at least. Word on the street (at least, word from Chie) is that business at Tatsumi Textiles skyrocketed once Kanji started selling his wares and even offering custom commissions.

“Yo, senpai!” From the back of the shop emerges Kanji, who welcomes me with a beaming grin and an extended hand, which I provide with a firm shake. Yeah, I know it’s been years at this point since he restyled himself, but the Kanji in my head still sports long, bleached, slicked-back hair and skull t-shirts. This polo-wearing, black-haired man in front of me looks like a stranger but speaks like an old friend.

“We’re both out of high school, you don’t have to call me senpai anymore.” He laughs and shrugs.

“Hell, you’ll always be my senpai. Hey ma, mind if me and Yu take off for a bit?”

“It’s no problem, dear. I can tend the store while you’re gone.”

“Thanks, ‘preciate it. Come on, man, let’s go somewhere.” I stop him - there’s someone else I came here for.

“Sure, but before we go, is Teddie around?”

“Nah, that stupid bear’s hanging out in the TV. He’ll probably be back in a few hours.” Damn. I really want - need, really - to talk to him about what I saw a few weeks ago. Nothing’s happened since then, so maybe it was nothing, but still. I have to know. But if he’s not there, he’s not there, and I’ve no choice but to wait a bit longer.

———

Kanji seemingly forgot that it’s the dead of winter and there’s nowhere to go, so we decide to have lunch at the only place either of us can think of: the Junes rooftop. A mistake in hindsight as the cold bites at us despite our three layers of clothing, but we’ve made our bed and now we must lie in it. As I tear into a steak filet that’s losing its warmth by the second, Kanji kicks things off.

“So, back in town for winter break, huh, senpai?”

“Yeah. I hate that I can only really visit twice a year. Sorry I didn’t hang out with you in the summer, by the way.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I figured you were probably busy. It happens, no big deal.”

“Thanks. How have you and Teddie been holding up?” After graduation, when Yosuke packed up and headed to the city for college, Teddie suddenly found himself homeless. None of the girls would take him in, for obvious reasons. So it fell to Kanji to give the guy a place to stay when he’s in the real world.

“I’ve been fine, but I think Ted’s been stressed out. He ain’t used to living with a guy like me. Yosuke-senpai probably let him get away with a ton of shit I get on his ass for. I mean, I know it ain’t his fault and all, being from the TV world, but the dude’s got a lot to learn about how to act.”

“Well, he’s a Shadow in the prime of his sexuality. Hitting on any girl in sight is probably just his natural instinct.”

“Instinct’s fine for bears, but if he’s gonna be around people, he can’t keep actin’ like a damn bear. Sometimes I feel like I gotta beat some manners into him.” As much as his outward appearance may tell you otherwise, Kanji hasn’t really changed.

“Has he been going to the TV world a lot lately?”

“Yeah, pretty often. Says he’s got to protect it or somethin’, but half the time I think he’s just trying to get away from me. Not a lot goin’ on in there these days.” He pauses to chug from some kind of fruit drink? “Anyway, what’ve you been up to? Haven’t heard much from you since you’ve been out in Tokyo.” Always an awkward question, but I’ve gotten better at providing a rehearsed answer.

“Not a lot, honestly. School, mostly, haha. Lots of studying, that kind of thing.” Well, maybe not that much better.

“Whatcha going to school for?”

“Haven’t decided yet.” That part’s true, at least.

“Well, whatever you go for, I’m sure you’ll be great at it, senpai. You’re the biggest badass I ever met.” Strong words coming from Kanji, and I’m totally confident that he means it. So why don’t his words cheer me up?

“Thanks, that means a lot,” I forcefully reply, trying not to let him down. To be fair, I’m not lying.

——— 

“Sensei! Sensei!”

Teddie’s enthusiasm hits me in the chest like a two hundred pound bear the moment we return to the textile shop. Kanji just watches, laughing, as I try to wrestle him off of me.

“Hey there, Teddie,” I sputter through heavy breaths, “how have you been?”

“Oh, it’s terrible, sensei! Kanji-kun is so mean to me!”

“Am not!” I’m inclined to believe Kanji’s side of this story.

“Yes he is! He never lets me have any fun! Whenever I try to talk to a pretty girl he pulls me aside and hits me!” Kanji mutters “just a slap” under his breath.

“You probably deserve it,” I admit.

“Not you too, sensei!” Teddie sinks to his knees, pretending to sob dramatically. “Is there no hope left for a bear like me in this cruel world?!”

“You were hopeless to begin with,” Kanji retorts, half-joking, half-bitter.

“So,” I take a seat on the floor and start before Teddie has another chance to ham it up, “Teddie, how’re things in the TV world?”

“Perfect and peaceful as ever! It’s so pretty in there, I wish I could bring someone along to admire it all! Perhaps a fair maiden as beautiful and pure as the fields…” Kanji’s eyes roll so far back into his head I could’ve sworn I saw them rotate all the way back around.

“Nothing out of the ordinary then?”

“Nope! Not at all.” Huh. Kanji notices my relief.

“What’s up, senpai? Something bothering you?” Being honest feels more difficult every day, and I struggle against the desire to just shrug it off, say it’s nothing. But this could be big. Something I can’t handle myself.

“To tell you the truth,” I stare at the floor, trying to summon the strength to finish that thought. “I was walking down the street a few weeks ago, in the rain…”

“The rain?” Kanji interrupts. “In this kind of cold?”

“I know! Let me finish. I thought something was off about the rain, so as I was walking home, someone passing by on the sidewalk pushed me. I turned around to see who it was, and… well, I swear it was Izanami.”

“No way. No god damned way.”

“And the kicker is, a moment later she was gone. Just, like, disappeared. And the rain went away just as she did.”

“Teddie,” Kanji looks at him, trying not to show any panic, “you sure you haven’t noticed anything funny in the TV?”

“No, no, not at all!” Teddie insists, “Something as big as that, my nose definitely would’ve picked up! But it’s been all clear in there.” Kanji turns back to me.

“Senpai, are you totally sure that’s what you saw?”

“Well,” I confess, “to be fair, I did kind of have the crap beaten out of me a little while before. Maybe I was just still reeling from that.”

“Whoa, who beat you up? What for?” Kanji’s panic changes in a heartbeat to fury. “Tell me who it was, and I’ll pound the shit out of ‘em!”

“Just some random guy. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad nothing’s out of the ordinary in the TV world.” There’s no mistaking that the rain was real, though. My coat was drenched. Maybe it really was just a random weather event, but I’m not really happy with that answer yet.

“Yeah,” Kanji takes a seat on the floor to calm down, “besides, we already beat that Izanami thing, right? How would she come back?”

“You’re right,” I concede. Maybe I was just seeing things, and there’s really nothing to prove otherwise at this point. I lay back on the matted floor of the shop and sigh, not out of relief but disappointment. At least if Izanami suddenly reappeared again that would give me something to do. Something to get the whole gang back together. Something to break the endless monotony of going to class and coming home, day in, day out.

Wow, what the hell, me? Did I just wish for Izanami to come back for my own personal amusement? After everything that happened last time? The murders? The near-death of everyone I care about? Damn near the end of the world?

_Aren't you just doing this because you want a little spice in your boring lives?_

What? Why is all that nonsense coming back to me now?

_Let's be honest. There's nothing great about the real world, is there? It's just dull and annoying as hell._

_No one accepts that's the way things are… They're just stuck with it because they can't deny it, either._

_One day you'll see… You'll be faced with the boring reality that boxes you in, no matter where you go._

All bullshit, of course. Adachi was just a jaded, selfish brat. He didn’t have friends, nor did he even try to make any. He sat around and did nothing while blaming the world for his failure to go anywhere in life. He wanted the Shadows to take over because he thought the rest of the world was as boring and egotistical as he was.

I’m nothing like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! It’s been too long, sad to say. This chapter was really difficult to write and went through a lot of very, very heavy rewriting, which is the primary reason for the long delay. The core premise of the chapter - Yu meeting up with Kanji and Teddie - is something I’ve been looking forward to for a while, but it was going to be in a later chapter, and this was going to be something completely different, and things got shuffled around and here we are! The next chapter’s premise has been set in stone for a while, so hopefully it won’t take me quite so long.
> 
> Teddie and Kanji living together is an interesting dynamic that I’ve been wanting to explore. When I was planning out what each character is up to in the universe of this story, it felt totally natural that Yosuke wouldn’t want Teddie living in his dorm, and that Kanji would be the only one willing to take him in, being such a bleeding heart. But at the same time, they’re such opposites that they play off each other in funny ways. Hopefully I’ll have a chance to have more scenes with them in later chapters.
> 
> Another relationship I wanted to focus on in this chapter is Kanji and Yu. Kanji just overflows with respect for his old senpai. To Kanji, Yu is this guy who saved the world, who protects the people he cares about, who gave Kanji the support he needed to be himself. When he hears someone beat Yu up, he instantly rushes to Yu’s defense. Kanji really cares for Yu, which is why it’s all the more frustrating for Yu to just bottle up how he feels and not tell him.
> 
> The last bit of the chapter touches on something I’ve been kind of alluding to for a while now, but here it really came into focus. I definitely think that Adachi and Yu (or whatever you might have named the protag) were always meant to be contrasting characters - insofar as a silent protagonist can have a characterization, the _P4_ protag was always someone who was friendly, sociable, caring. He loved Inaba and the people in it, and fought to save them all. Adachi, on the other hand, hated life. Inaba was just a boring small town in the boonies, full of selfish and ignorant people who would probably all be happier as Shadows anyway. He was bored and alone because the world is boring and lonely, and what good is a reality like that, anyway?
> 
> The chapter title this time is a reference to the Metric track, _Black Sheep_. While going over potential title tracks for this chapter, the first verse of this track said something to me about the relationship between Yu and Adachi, perhaps from Adachi’s perspective.
> 
> The next chapter will hopefully not take nearly as long as this one did to get published, particularly as I already have more solid plans for it, but I’m hesitant to make any promises as to when it will be ready. Keep an eye out for it, and as always, you can reach me by commenting here at AO3 or sending me an ask at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. See you next chapter!
> 
> \- Akinari


	7. 12.23.14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roughly three years ago, Chie bared her heart to Yu. All she wants for Christmas is for him to do the same.

**December 23, 2014**

It’s ten o’clock in the morning when the sound of tires plowing through snow, of an engine sputtering, beat the doorbell to the punch. My ears, fully at attention, have been expecting to hear all these sounds for six months. I know what they mean before I ever open the door. And I do open it, and there she stands, waiting for me, just as I have waited for her. I waste no time before wrapping my arms around her tiny frame, holding her as close to me as possible. She stands on her toes and our lips connect for just a moment. Our eyes lock on to each other, speechlessly expressing more longing than any exchange of words ever could.

We walk to her car, an old white Jeep, well-dented and worn. She left the engine running when she came to the door, and the heater has kept the inside comfortably warm and cozy. I toss a suitcase into the back and climb into the passenger’s seat, and we take off. I’m not sure what our first destination is, but I don’t care. As long as I’m right here, in this seat, next to her.

“What are you so quiet for?” Her talkative nature can’t bear such long periods of silence.

“What’s there to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know! ‘I missed you,’ ‘I’m so glad to see you,’ ‘you look beautiful,’ something. I feel weird with you just kinda staring out the window like that.”

“I miss you. I _have_ missed you, every single day. But you knew that without me saying it.”

“Of course I did! But, well, I just really want to hear you say it. I’ve missed the sound of your voice. Or how it sounds when it’s not all, uh, telephone-y.”

“Telephone-y?” I chuckle.

“Yeah! You know. Like there’s a tiny little Yu in my phone speaking through a megaphone, and it’s all tinny and distorted.” I can’t help but pick on her with a comment like that.

“What, is that how you think phones work? Is there a tiny Chie in my phone? That’s kind of adorable, actually.”

“No! It’s a figure of speech, sheesh.”

“You mean a metaphor.”

“Look, I didn’t get top scores in all my classes like you did, okay? Give me a break.” She punches me in the arm before we both start cracking up.

God, I love this woman.

———

**December 24, 2011**

“Umm…” She stares at me from across the table, her face betraying her embarrassment as its crimson glow lights up the whole room. “I-I’m kinda nervous, ‘cause I’ve never spent a Christmas like this…” She trails off and gazes wistfully at the ceiling. Honestly, I’ve never spent a Christmas like this either. I know I’m putting on a cool façade - well, I hope it’s cool, at least - but I can feel goosebumps all over my arms, and not from the winter cold. She takes a deep breath.

“And I’m kinda amazed, too.” She lowers her gaze back at me and our eyes meet. I can tell she’s struggling not to look away awkwardly, or maybe that’s just me, projecting. “Here I am, spending Christmas with you, and I didn’t even know you last year.” That glow on her cheeks burns an even deeper scarlet. “But now, we’re here together, and… I feel happy, you know?” I just sit there, looking back at her. “C-Come on! Say something! You’re making me all embarrassed!”

Maybe I’ve gotten a little better at socializing since I came to Inaba. Okay, way better. But still, every now and then, that meek, quiet kid from the city rises back to the surface and freezes me in place. This is one of those times. It’s frustrating how childish I feel, just locking up in front of her like this, like a middle schooler on his first date. All the more because I know this isn’t easy for her, either.

“Thank you,” I begin.

“For what?”

“Everything, really.” That feels like a dumb answer right after I say it, but oh well. “I mean, a year ago, I’d never met you. I don’t think I even knew Inaba existed.”

“You didn’t visit Dojima-san as a kid?”

“Not really, no. I think he visited when I was a little kid, but I can’t remember that far back.”

“Wow. Coming here must have been a big shock, huh?”

“Oh yeah. A lot different than Tokyo, but that’s fine. I never really liked the city anyway.”

“Aww, what’s there to like out here, though? There’s nothing all that special about Inaba.”

“Well, you’re here.” Slick one, Yu.

“Oh, shut up.” How red can her face get? Is there a color redder than red? I’m stretching the limits of my vocabulary to describe her blushing.

“I’m serious. It’s not just you, though. I’ve made the best friends of my life out here. Eight months ago I’d never set foot in this town. Now all I can think about is how much I dread having to leave it.” I pause. “Having to leave you.”

I can tell from her eyes that she doesn’t want to think about it any more than I do. Sure, I knew from the moment I arrived that my time here was finite, but never has a year felt so short.

“Well,” she leads, her voice more nasally than before, “that just means that we have to make as many memories as we can while you’re here.”

———

**December 23, 2014**

“Welcome to the Amagi— oh!” Yukiko stands at the entrance to the Inn, her hair down, dressed conservatively in a pink kimono. I’ve had the room booked for weeks, so I don’t know why she seems surprised. I get the impression it’s a pleasant surprise, at least.

“Hello to you, too,” I remark, sounding a bit snarkier than I intend. She runs up and welcomes each of us with a hug and a warm smile, ever the proper hostess.

“It’s so good to see you! It’s been— well, I guess it hasn’t been that long, haha. Jun,” she turns to a worker across the hall, “take our guests’ luggage to their room, would you?” Looking back at us, she continues, “I’m so sorry, I wish I had more time to chat! We’ve been super busy this week.”

“I imagine,” I empathize, “but it’s fine. We’re just stopping by to check in and drop our luggage off before we head out for lunch.”

“Ah, where are you going?”

“Aiya!” Chie exclaims, before locking her arm around mine and jumping with enthusiasm. “Yu-kun’s gonna treat me to a big beef bowl, isn’t that right?”

“Whatever you want,” I chuckle.

“Well, let me show you to your room!” Yukiko twirls around and guides us down the hallway to our room. As we’re heading down the hallway, a guest calls for Yukiko to check in on him.

“Hey, Amagi-chan, can I talk to you about something?” She’s visibly not eager to talk to this customer.

“Sir, can it wait? I am busy with other guests.”

“Surely they aren’t as important as me?” Yukiko turns to us with apologies written on her face before heading into the guest’s room and closing the sliding door. Chie leans her ear to the door and motions at me to join. Rebel that I am, I oblige.

“Amagi-chan, it must be hard being such a young manager, huh?”

“It’s not easy.”

“I bet you could use something to relieve all that stress.”

“Not really. Is this all you wanted to talk about?”

“Oh, come on, Amagi-chan. Let me give you a nice massage.”

“Ah, I would have to charge for that service.” Uh. Chie looks at me suspiciously.

“Name your price, princess.”

“Ten million yen per minute, up front. Oh, and I would need to obtain consent from your wife, of course.” Ice cold. Chie stifles a laugh. Quickly we move our heads away from the door as footsteps approach. Yukiko slides the door open, a scowl on her face that she quickly hides when she sees us. “So sorry about that. Shall we continue?”

When we arrive, it’s a simple room - 8 tatami mats with an incredible view on the porch. Two yukata lie out for us in the guest area for later.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Yukiko dashes off, leaving Chie and I alone in the room. I stroll over to take a seat on the porch, catching a breath before we head off to eat. Right outside our porch is a running stream, surrounded by bushes and woods gently rustling in the wind. It’s not long before a green jacket obstructs the scenery as Chie decides to perch herself in my lap.

“Hello!” She’s quite cheerful about it.

“You’re blocking my view,” I complain, wrapping my arms around her stomach.

“Oh, whatever. It’s not that great.”

“It is, actually.” She pauses for a moment.

“Yeah,” she admits softly, “I guess it kinda is. I used to hang out here all the time with Yukiko, so maybe I’m just spoiled to it.”

It’s a tight fit, but she leans back and squeezes next to me in the chair, laying her head on my shoulder. As I raise my arm and run my fingers through her pale brown hair, we just sit there for a while looking out over the stream, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I belong here.

———

**December 24, 2011**

She glances around the room awkwardly, looking for something, anything to talk about to kill the uneasy silence. Her eyes finally settle on the cake on the table. It’s not really a special cake. Store-bought. Maybe that’s inappropriate for the occasion. Maybe I should’ve crafted this cake by hand. With my own sweat and blood, to prove my love. Is a store-bought cake loveless? Is this thing sitting on my table a testament to my lack of a soul? Oh God. Is she judging me based on my cake purchasing decisions?

“That cake looks delicious! Good choice, Yu-kun.” Don’t lie to me. Don’t patronize me. I know you think less of me now. I’m so sorry. She reaches into her coat pocket, and my imagination runs wild with what she shall pull out from within it to punish me. I’ve seen what kind of damage a kick from those legs can do. But she can’t pull her legs out from her coat pocket, so I’m safe.

“Um , this is… from me.” From her jacket pocket she pulls a scarf. Neatly folded and positively fluffy. Very cute, very white, and as far as I can tell, not at all deadly. “I’m sure it’ll look good on you! I bought it, but I want to challenge myself and make one with my own two hands next year.” Her face glows crimson once more. “And… I want to celebrate Christmas next year with you, too.”

Next year? Will there be a next year? Does anything exist beyond this moment, this place, right here, right now? If so, I can’t imagine it.

“Of course.” Of course I say that. If that future comes, there’s no other answer. She laughs shyly, happily, relieved. Relieved? She must know that’s a promise I can’t make. She must know that I don’t know where I’ll be in a year. That it probably won’t be here. That making this connection, this bond last for so long from so far away will be the most difficult thing either of us have ever done. She must know that, but she must also know none of that matters. Everything will work. Of course it will. If it doesn’t then I just lied, and I’m not a liar. I’m not a liar.

———

**December 23, 2014**

I loosen my scarf as we take our seats at a table in Aiya, warm and smelling as ever of searing meat, filled with the sounds of customers and sizzling food. Aika takes our drink orders - green tea for me, soda for Chie. I’m flipping through the menu as Chie starts a conversation.

“Ah, it’s so nice to sit down and eat somewhere. I haven’t been to Aiya in forever!”

“Police academy keeping you busy, huh?”

“That and being broke. I’ve been living on instant noodles for months.” A feeling I know all too well. She casts her eyes upon the table. “I thought it’d be fun - police academy, I mean - but it’s just a lot of studying and tests and creepy guys. Did I tell you I was like the only girl in my whole class?”

“I think so.” Probably. She says a lot of things.

“It’s awful! And we all had to stay in these dorms, and it’s just me and the only two other girls in the whole school and they’re both super boring. Like they didn’t even want to be there. I think one of them’s only attending because her family made her or something.”

“No enthusiasm, huh?”

“Nope, nada. I’m all about beating up bad guys and all these people want to do is carry a gun and act tough. It’s kinda sad, actually.” I respect Dojima-san a little more, knowing he’s the exception to the rule. “But it’s fine. I’m all done with the first year of training and in the spring I’ll get to do real field work! Criminals won’t know what hit ‘em!” She makes these punching motions before drooping limply onto the table with a sigh. “But it’s not like there’s a lot of criminals around here.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“That’s not what I mean! I… I just thought things would be different, you know? I wanted to protect this place, and everyone in it, but maybe it doesn’t need all that much protecting. And I think all the other recruits knew that and here I am, trying to be a hero or something. Am I just stupid?” That’s probably rhetorical, but I’ll bite.

“A bit naïve, maybe. But not stupid. I mean, I don’t want to pretend like I know what being a cop is like, but I’d rather have a cop that really cares about keeping me safe than one who doesn’t even want to be there. And if there’s not a lot of crime happening, that just means you and the other officers are doing your job well.”

“Yeah,” she blurts out, picking herself back up. “Yeah! You’re right. Screw those guys. I’m gonna be the best cop this town’s ever seen.”

———

**December 24, 2011**

This futon wasn’t really made for two people, but somehow we’ve made it work. We just lie there, curled under the blankets, her head on my chest, and my head staring up at the ceiling. I just focus on this feeling, of her breath on my skin, how her body rises and falls against mine with the tide of her breathing. This feeling of her fingers, small yet calloused, intertwined with mine. I must study this feeling, learn it, memorize it, and be able to recall it from memory, because soon there will be times when these memories are all I have to know it by.

“Yu-kun,” she coos softly, barely stirring.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t want you to leave.” Please don’t make me think about it, either. Not tonight. Unsure of how to respond, I just clench my hand tighter around hers, as if to reassure her. As if I’ll never let go. “I know I put on a strong face for you, but… sometimes it keeps me up at night. Sometimes I lay in bed and I think about how soon you’ll be gone and…” Her eyes rain upon my chest, and her breath becomes strained as she sniffles. “I know this isn’t fair to you, Yu-kun, but I’m a jealous person. I’m an awful, jealous, two-faced person.”

“You’re not an awful person.”

“Yes, I am! I know Yukiko likes you, too. And Rise can’t keep her hands off you. And Yukiko’s so much prettier and smarter than me, and Rise’s a big famous idol, and…” She lets go of my hand and slips her arms under me, hugging me as tightly as her small body can. “And yet I’m here with you tonight, and they aren’t, and I feel like this is all a big joke. Like there’s no way you can really love me.”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything.”

“I know that! I know you do, I can see it in the way you look at me. But I can’t help it. I always feel like I’m not good enough for you. And I’m scared. I’m scared that this is all like a dream, and when you go away I’ll wake up, and you’ll be with someone else. Once you get away from me and meet someone else you’ll realize I’m boring and stubborn and clingy and I’ll be all alone again. And the worst part is I know that’s not true, I know you wouldn’t do that to me, but I feel it anyway and it eats at me all the time and I can’t stop it.” She sobs quietly in to my chest, bitter tears, tears of anger. Anger not at me, but herself. As I think of what to say, I let her empty her eyes as I hold her close with one arm and use my free hand to stroke her hair.

“Chie,” I finally speak up, and she stifles back her tears long enough to let me continue. “I realize I’ve only known you for less than a year. You were the first person I really met here in Inaba, and in the short time I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever been closer to anyone. When everyone else was gawking over the new transfer student, you actually took the time to know me. And I am so thankful, every day, that you did.”

“But why? What do you see in me?”

“I hate that you have to ask me that. I hate that you don’t see in yourself what I see.” I pause, to breathe, to think of an answer to such a harsh question. “I see someone who cares so much about the people around her, who worries about them and wants to protect them, so much so that she doesn’t take the time to worry about herself. I see someone who has always felt out of place and unnoticed and still manages to be so full of life and enthusiasm and optimism. You are the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“Idiot,” she whimpers, her eyes staring in to mine, too dry to shed any more tears. “I’m not strong. I try so hard to be strong, but I’m really weak. The only reason I feel like I can do anything is because you and the others are there by my side.”

“I’m the same way. I think we all are. That’s what brought us all together.”

———

**December 23, 2014**

After dinner at the inn, we head back to our room to find futons already laid out on the floor for us. Two futons, actually, with a space between them, which I discreetly slide closer together. It’s not that late yet, only eight o’clock, but it’s been a long day. So I flop down on one of the futons and close my eyes. A few moments later I sense Chie snuggling up next to me, wrapping her arms around one of mine and resting her head on my shoulder.

“Are you comfortable?” I tease.

“Mmhmm.” She cuddles even closer.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” We just relax like that for a few minutes, keeping each other warm from the frigid winter night. A little while later, she rolls over on top of me and reaches her hand to my face, pushing back my hair from my eyes.

“So! Yu-kun,” she quips, “we’ve spent all day talking about me, but how have you been holding up?” Sigh.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Come on. You never tell me about what you’ve been doing out in Tokyo. It’s kind of weirding me out.”

“There’s not a lot to say.” Even I know I’m being evasive. She grabs my yukata and clenches it in her hands, looking me straight in the eyes.

“Please don’t do this. I can tell something’s going on, that’s why I waited until we were alone to ask you about it. But don’t shut me out. If there’s something wrong, I want to know. I want to help.” I’m an idiot for thinking I could hide anything from her. An even bigger idiot for trying. Why do I do it? Of course I know she only wants the best for me, so why do I shut her out of this? Am I embarrassed? Ashamed?

“You’re right,” I begin, because she obviously is. “To be honest, I think this has been a problem for me ever since I left Inaba, but it’s just gotten worse lately. I feel… aimless. Like I’m just drifting along in life and not really going anywhere. Nothing really interests me anymore, I’m not meeting new people, I’m just moping around and wishing things were like they used to be.”

“Like they used to be?”

“Yeah. You know, back when I first came here. We were fighting Shadows, solving mysteries, saving people, discovering ourselves. It gave me purpose, I think. And I had you, and everyone else. I was the happiest I’ve ever been. But ever since I left, I’ve just kind of felt bored, and miserable, and alone.” She gazes at me intensely as she rubs her hand gently across my cheek, stroking my skin with her thumb.

“You’re not alone, silly. You have me. And everyone else is always there for you, too.”

“But you’re always so far away.”

“I’m here right now.” She leans in and kisses me softly, just her lips, then nestles her head between my shoulder and neck. “I know what it’s like,” she continues, “to just feel upset all the time and not be able to help it. I went through it when you moved away, too. I just missed you all the time, I counted the days till I could see you again. But Yu-kun…” She lifts her head and looks at me again, a sad smile on her face. “What I learned - what _you_ taught me - is that we all need each other. Pushing other people away is the worst thing you can do. So please, please, talk to me about this stuff. I’m here for you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“And as long as I’m around, you’re never alone. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

 

**END OF PART ONE**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading this seventh chapter of _Memories of the City_ , or as I call it, The Chie Chapter. It went a little longer than I planned, and is so far the longest chapter I’ve published. I know I said in the author notes of chapter six that hopefully chapter seven would come sooner, and it probably would have had I not had some extra ideas of what to do with it. But hopefully being so much longer than normal makes up for the wait.
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a break from the plot before I dive headfirst into it next chapter. For now, I’m simply focusing on building the relationship between Yu and Chie. I mentioned in the notes for chapter one that I don’t intend for this to be a Yu x Chie shipping fic, and I stand by that, but for this chapter I hope fans of the two will find something they like, haha. They’ve been together since the start of the story, of course, but because of the long-distance nature of the relationship, I’ve only been able to show glimpses of it. I really want readers to understand how close they are and what they mean to each other in a way you can only see when they’re really together, so hopefully I accomplished that with this chapter.
> 
> You probably noticed the flashback scenes, adapted from the Christmas Eve scene from the original game but with original conversation and narration added. Yu is a silent protagonist in the original game, so I wanted to show his mindset during these events. Just little things to spice up the chapter and give more insight into his and Chie’s relationship. I had particular fun writing Yu’s cake paranoia. 
> 
> The last goal with this chapter was to flesh out Chie a bit more. The end of _Persona 4_ has her set on becoming a police officer, so we get some peeks into her progress on fulfilling that dream. It’s not all sunshine and roses, but she’s trying hard and she has the right mindset about it, I think. I also wanted to give a sense of her role in the relationship, how she feels about Yu and how hard it is for her to be so distant from him. I think Chie has a harder time being away from Yu than Yu does from Chie, personally.
> 
> That’s a big part of why I included the flashback scene of her and Yu lying in his futon at Dojima’s as she spills her heart out to him - in _Persona 4_ and _Golden_ , the dynamic of their relationship is really built around her feelings of inferiority and jealousy. Shadow Chie’s defining trait is her jealousy of Yukiko, her guilty satisfaction when Yukiko looks up to her. In _Golden_ in particular, Chie talks about how she’s very plain and doesn’t understand what Yu sees in her, and how depressed she would get thinking about Yu going away. So those kinds of moments are the building blocks for her struggles in _Memories of the City_.
> 
> Obviously, if Yu is in a relationship with Chie, that means that _Memories of the City_ follows a specific route/playthrough in the original game, so I’d like to take a moment to kind of clarify what I’m considering a _MotC_ -canon series of events when I write this. All the main story events leading up to the True Ending in the original PS2 release of _Persona 4_ are canonical. All Social Links from the PS2 release were maxed out, but only Chie was pursued as a love interest. Everyone else was shot down or simply never approached romantically (ie, Naoto). As far as any of the events of other titles - _Golden_ , _Arena_ , _Q_ , or _Ultimax_ \- I don’t want to say too much, other than I may or may not draw from events in those games in later chapters and unless the story directly comments on the events in those games, feel free to draw your own conclusions. Death of the author and all that.
> 
> Speaking of, hopefully you all saw the new _Persona 5_ trailer released at Sony’s TGS conference recently! I find it intensely amusing that they’ve decided to create a _Persona_ game about feeling trapped in your life and chained down by society - and set it in Shibuya, of all coincidences, but hey! I’m obviously incredibly interested in all of that. Can’t wait to see more.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from _12.23.95_ , a song by Jimmy Eat World off their most renowned album, _Clarity_. The lyrics of the song are simple and sweet, the singer apologizing for leaving his significant other alone, for not knowing what to say to her, and yet wishing her a merry Christmas. The relevance should be obvious.
> 
> I’ll make no attempt to guess when chapter eight will be out, other than “when it’s ready”, because whenever I try I never make it on schedule. But keep an eye out for it, and as always, feel free to comment here at AO3 or message me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com if there’s anything you’d like to say! Until next time.
> 
> \- Akinari


	8. Whatsername

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two different people read Yu in very different ways.

**PART TWO**

 

**???**

My eyes fly open at the sound of a piano, ringing loudly in my ears, the keys being smashed with incredible purpose. Even after a moment for my eyes to adjust, hardly anything can be seen on account of a dense, suffocating fog. Still, I can tell this place is familiar. No doubt I’ve been here before. Glancing around, my eyes spot something on my own lap - a pair of glasses. Also familiar, though I haven’t worn them in years. So I pick them up and put them on, and instantly I realize where I am.

As the piano’s song settles down into a familiar melody, I find myself seated in a stretch limo, upholstered in a smooth, blue plush velvet. To my left is a mini-bar that, in all my trips here, I’ve never seen used. And as always, sitting directly across from me, is a hunchbacked old man with a nose like a sword and his faithful assistant, flipping through a tome that never leaves her side.

“Welcome,” the old man drawls, backdropped by the usual intonations of an opera singer. “My, my. How unexpected. So rarely do we invite a guest back to this room after so long.” He temples his fingers and twiddles them almost villainously. “You must be wondering why you were summoned here tonight.” Obviously.

“Yeah, what’s going on? Didn’t I fulfill my contract?” He chuckles heartily.

“Yes, indeed. In normal circumstances I ought to be on my way, but Margaret absolutely insisted.” Margaret shuts her book and turns to face me.

“It is as Igor stated. We haven’t much time, but I made a promise to you, and I vow to keep it. This visit is a warning, so heed it well.”

“A warning?”

“Do you remember the nature of the world inside the television?”

“Of course. It’s the collective unconscious, or something. And the Shadows form from people’s repressed thoughts.”

“Exactly right. But just as the world of the television exists within the hearts of people, the Velvet Room exists between dream and reality, the conscious and the subconscious. In particular, this incarnation of the room seems informed by your own mind.”

“My own mind…?”

“Precisely. Surely you’ve noticed, Yu Narukami? The fog that envelops this room grows thicker by the day, so dense that our vehicle can no longer move through it.” Oh, I get it.

“So what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Ah,” Igor interjects, laying out tarot cards on the table in front of him, “now that is for you to discover. Alas, as you are no longer bound by our contract, we cannot provide any direct aid in this matter. But make no mistake, a great trial awaits you. Yes, yes, a great one indeed…” As Igor trails off, my vision begins to fade to white. I suppose my visit nears its end.

“Remember,” Margaret calls out, “even if you should lose everything…”

**January 5, 2015**

Alarm clocks don’t play around. You grow to hate that infernal noise, some Frankenstein monster of a buzz and a beep, but that’s what makes it effective. It does not want nor need your love, it only insists that you wake up when told, and at most expects a certain level of begrudging respect for admirably performing the job you asked it to do.

I say that, but my thoughts circa seven this morning stand more along the lines of “fuck alarm clocks.” Every day begins with a struggle to lift myself out of bed lately, but today particularly tests my will. With winter break ending, today marks the first day of classes in the second half of the term. Yet another day to dread. So with as much force as I can muster, I lift my body out of bed and head into the kitchen to begin the daily ritual. Coffee, TV in the background, a quick smoke; the three ingredients of my own balanced breakfast.

Yosuke isn’t up yet, of course. Why should he be? Because he has class in an hour? Pfft. Bitter joking aside, maybe I should go wake him up. His door is slightly ajar, allowing his snores to rumble through the hall. Gently I push it open, and I’m just about to knock on his door when my eyes catch sight of his bed. He’s there of course, but on either side of him are two human-shaped lumps in his sheets, cloaked in long black hair. Beer cans litter the floor beside them. While I’m sure he had a wonderful time last night, my suspicion is that he’ll pay for it with a miserable day today. I should leave him be.

So back to the living room I go, seating myself on the couch as I prepare to down a full cup of coffee. From Yosuke’s room I hear stirring, a rustling of sheets, a door creaking open. As I turn my head that direction, a figure emerges through the door - not Yosuke, but a young girl about my age, her messy hair draped over an oversized T-shirt that I strongly suspect is the only thing she’s wearing. Her sagging eyes widen upon noticing my presence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” It takes her a moment to realize what’s going on. Finally her jaw drops agape as she rolls her eyes and leans her shoulder against the door frame.

“Yosuke didn’t say he had a roommate.”

“Did you think he lived in a two-bedroom dorm by himself?” She snickers.

“Yeah, like I was paying attention to that.” As she rubs her head with her hands, smearing makeup all over her face, her gaze falls upon my mug. “You have coffee?”

“Help yourself.”

“Shit, thanks. I’ve got a nasty hangover.” Once she pours herself a cup, she curls herself up on the couch next to me, cupping her coffee in both hands. She’s rather tall, almost six feet I’d say, slender and sleek. Her jet black hair curtains her brown, thin eyes, which watch me carefully, like she’s reading my every movement. “So what’s your name?”

“Narukami. Yu Narukami.” She laughs heartily, nearly choking up her coffee.

“Narukami? Like the lightning god? That’s an awesome name.” After gaining control of her giggling, she continues. “I’m Ayumi Takahashi. Nice to meet you. How’d you meet Hanamura-kun?”

“Best friends since high school, decided to be roommates in college.”

“Not that great of a best friend, is he? Bringing two girls over and not inviting you.”

“I have a girlfriend,” I counter.

“Ah,” she echoes sagely, “I can see that. You look like the girlfriend type. You can just look at Yosuke and tell he’s single.”

“Hah, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Depends on how much you like being single. Yosuke’s kind of an airhead, and a bit pushy and annoying, so I’d say he’s not single by choice. He’s cute, but there’s not a lot there, you know?”

“He’s got his moments, but that’s not far off,” I admit, hoping he’s still fast asleep. “Wait, how long have you known Yosuke?”

“Since last night.” Giggles again.

“How can you tell that much from one night?”

“I know a lot of guys. You learn to type them. Like you, I’m thinking you’re a keeper. The strong, quiet type. Girls love that. I bet your girlfriend’s lucky to have you.”

“I’d say I’m lucky to have her.”

“Of course you would! You’re smart, too. Know just what to say to melt hearts. Hanamura-kun would probably kill to have that kind of appeal.” Wow.

“It’s almost scary how well you’re able to read people.”

“When you’re a social girl, you gotta learn this stuff. If I’m gonna go home with a guy, I need to have some idea what I’m getting into, right? It’s a basic survival skill for people like me.”

“You go home with a lot of guys?”

“Hey now, don’t judge me.” She wraps her fingers more tightly around her cup. “It’s college, I’m a single girl, I can have a little fun. Yosuke was cute, he seemed nice and non-threatening, so sure, I came over. Between you and me, I don’t even know that other girl he brought with us, but I had more fun with her than I had with him, if you catch my drift.”

“I don’t think I want to.” The subject of Yosuke’s sexual prowess falls somewhere at the bottom of the list of discussions I’d like to have within twenty minutes of waking up.

“Aw, you’re blushing.” Whoops. “You’re a shy one, aren’t you? That’s sweet. I bet you and Yosuke work well together, you’re like his straight man. He probably needs a cool head like you to keep him in check.”

“I don’t do a great job of it.” Taking a deep gulp of coffee, I continue. “He goes out all the time while I stay here and mope around.”

“Well, maybe you should change that. Yosuke seems like a nice guy, but I can tell he needs someone like you in his life. Take care of him, alright?”

“I’ll do my best.” I finish my coffee mug and place it on the table. Something occurs to me. “You know, I think this is the longest conversation I’ve had with a stranger in a long time.”

“Huh?” She seems perplexed. “Why’s that?”

“I dunno. I talk to Yosuke, and some other friends from high school, but I don’t really meet new people. I’ve just been too shy, or afraid, or something.”

“You shouldn’t be! You seem pretty cool to me. What are you afraid of?”

“Well, I don’t know if afraid is the right word. It’s more like, I had an incredible time in high school, and I made some amazing friends, and everything out here just feels boring and unimportant in comparison. Like I don’t matter anymore and neither does anything else.”

“Ugh, that’s a pretty shitty attitude to take.” She’s not holding any punches. “There’s plenty of great people to meet out here. Open up a little and stop throwing yourself a pity party for a while and I think you’ll see that.” She rolls her eyes a bit and looks at me intensely. “Look, I know I just met you ten minutes ago and all, so I don’t know you very well, and maybe that sounded a bit mean, but —“

With typically impeccable timing, the second bedroom’s door creaks open, and out stumbles Yosuke, dressed in nothing but boxers, the mysterious other girl wrapped around his right arm. There’s a moment, brief yet eternal, where he stares at me and Ayumi on the couch, the gears in his mind churning tirelessly to comprehend what exactly he’s looking at. You can see in his face the moment he realizes what’s going on.

“Whoawhoawhoawhoa! Yu, this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Yes it is,” Ayumi retorts. Yosuke loosens the other girl from around his arm and runs over to the couch, leaving the other girl with a vaguely pissed look on her face.

“So, uhhh, I probably should’ve told you I had a roommate, Takahashi-chan. This is Yu Narukami.”

“I know.”

“Oh, so you already met. Well, um, Yu, this is Takahashi… er…”

“Ayumi,” I finish his sentence for him.

“Right! Wow, you two got acquainted fast, didn’t you?” A door slam screams that the other girl has gone back to Yosuke’s room, knocking him to his knees as he grasps at his forehead. “Oh crap, my head is killing me!”

“See, Narukami-kun,” Ayumi laughs, “that’s what I mean. You let Hanamura-kun do what he wants, and he’ll wake up the next day with an angry girl and a killer hangover. You gotta keep an eye on him.”

“Hey! Were you talking about me to Yu behind my back?”

“Don’t worry,” she assures him, “I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know.”

“Haha, very funny,” he sneers, still clutching his head weakly. Turning to me, he mutters, “Dude, don’t listen to anything she tells you. She’s nothing but trouble.”

“Speaking of trouble,” I forebode as I glance at the clock, “don’t you have class in forty-five minutes?”

“What?!” His eyes dart to the clock for the first time, and one “crap!” later he practically trips over himself running back to his bedroom, leaving Ayumi and I alone once more on the couch. She places her mug on the table and leans towards me, perhaps a little too closely.

“I’m not going to stick around too much longer,” she whispers softly, “but it was nice meeting you. You sound like you’re going through some shit right now, but just so you know, I think you’re actually a great guy.”

“Everyone says that,” I sigh. She shrugs.

“Well, maybe you should listen to them.” She hits me gently in the chest. “Go out there, gather up some courage, and meet some new people. I think it’ll do a lot for your happiness.” We’re distracted by a loud _thud_ from Yosuke’s room for a second. “Anyway,” she resumes, “I’m gonna clean up and leave. I doubt I’ll come around here again, but I hope I see you around town sometime.”

“Yeah,” I stutter, “yeah, it was good meeting you too.” She gets up and, with a deep sigh, heads to Yosuke’s room and closes the door.

———

So it’s with a renewed sense of determination and confidence that I board the train to campus. Though my first class doesn’t start for an hour, for some reason I feel like getting there early. Like I’m looking forward to it, even. Perhaps Ayumi’s words gave my ego a much needed boost - she didn’t say anything my closest friends haven’t been telling me for ages, but hearing it from a stranger is different. She had no reason to suck up to me, no memories of a past Yu, mightier than the one in front of her. But she liked me. That’s a very comforting thought.

The train doors shut with a pneumatic hiss. With not a single empty seat anywhere on the train, I grab onto the railing as the wheels begin screeching against the rails. I’m putting on my headphones to drown the noises of the city out when an unprovoked chill rushes down my spine. I’m being watched. I know I am, but darting my eyes around the car reveals nothing out of the ordinary. Just the same sea of faces that always flood the city streets. Am I just being paranoid? Is my loneliness driving me to genuine madness? Surely I haven’t been _that_ isolated.

The feeling continues even after I arrive on campus and walk to my first class. Psychology 101, not a class I want to be in, but you know how required courses are. I’m thirty minutes early, so I drop my backpack and perch myself in the hallway near the door. The halls bustle with students, as usual. Couples flirting as they pass by, friends chatting and joking, a pack of girls giggling. Maybe it’s the paranoia getting to me, but it all stresses me out and makes me angry. For the first time it sinks into me how alone I feel on campus, and I want to scream with jealousy, to lash out at all these happy people. “I used to be like you,” my thoughts shout, “happy, joking, and surrounded by friends! I didn’t always get irrationally angry at people passing by!” C’mon, Yu. Deep breaths. That’s what you’re working towards this semester, remember? You’re going to make some friends. Meet new people. It’ll be great, but you can’t do that if you lash out at everyone happier than you.

I sigh, cooling myself down a bit. Everything will be alright. So I close my eyes and zone out for a few minutes until I sense someone sit down beside me. I look over and see a girl, her short black hair parted out of her face and her eyes like emeralds. She’s dressed in all black - a black button-up shirt, a black skirt, and black stockings, wearing thick eyeliner like a gothic teenager that never grew up. Short sleeves, too, madness in this cold. She notices me studying her and furrows her brow in my direction.

“What are you looking at?” Still a little out of it from zoning out a moment ago, her harsh tone shakes me and I take a second to respond.

“Sorry, just felt someone sit next to me.”

“It’s not like I’m here for you, stupid. I’m just waiting for my class.” She turns away and stares at the opposite wall.

“Uh, me too,” I respond half-heartedly, casting my gaze at the floor. It takes a minute, but finally I realize something. It’s the middle of the term. “So you’re in this class? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“O-oh,” she stumbles. “I used to have it a different time, my schedule got shifted around mid-semester.” She’s awfully suspicious, but I can’t prove she’s lying. “Anyway,” she segues, “if we’re going to be classmates, I guess I should introduce myself. Kiyomi Hirasaka.”

“Yu Narukami. Nice to meet you.”

“You too, I guess.” Such enthusiasm.

———

So about an hour later, I depart from psych class (boring, by the way - first day back from winter break is always just review) and head to the nearest smoking area for a break. Most other students my age don’t smoke, which is probably the correct decision, but it’s too late for me. I’m in too deep. On the plus side, this means the smoking areas on campus are usually empty, as this one appears to be. A prime spot for a brooding young man such as myself to light up and relax away from the commotion of the school. So I take a seat, lean back, and pull out my lighter when someone shoves a cigarette in my face.

“Light me up.” I look up and see that girl from my class again, glaring at me expectantly.

“You could ask a little more politely,” I complain, obliging her request anyway. She takes a seat beside me and takes a long drag on her cigarette.

“Narukami-kun, right?”

“Yes. And you are… sorry, but what’s your name?”

“Just call me Kiyomi.”

“That’s your given name, isn’t it? Calling you that wouldn’t be too forward?”

“I really don’t care,” she exhales, her face becoming shrouded in a puff of smoke.

“I see. So, Kiyomi-san—“

“Why do you smoke?” She cuts me off, catching me off guard.

“Eh?”

“It’s a simple question.” Sure, but an odd one. I take a moment to ponder it.

“Well, it’s always helped me clear my head, I think. I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.”

“And these empty smoking areas are a place to avoid everyone else, aren’t they?” Is she a mind reader?

“Yeah, actually,” I concur. She inhales deep on her cigarette, and blows out the smoke slowly, deliberately.

“All these people, their cliques, and their gossip. Their stupid little smiles after their nasty jokes. Their flirting and their laughing and their lying. I hate all of it.” Not much of a people person, is she?

“Hey now. There’s great people out there, if you look for them.”

“Yeah, some. But most of them aren’t worth the time.” She casts her gaze at me. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean.” Hey, don’t put your words in my mouth. “I can tell from watching you that you’re just like me. Slinking around, avoiding everyone else, hiding back here to smoke, sitting alone. You don’t want anything to do with all those other people.”

That’s not true, is it? Sure, I’ve been introverted. But that’s my own problem. I want to meet new people and make friends, but I just haven’t because…

_It’s more like, I had an incredible time in high school, and I made some amazing friends, and everything out here just feels boring and unimportant in comparison._

Ugh. Did I really say that? That’s not who I am. It’s not that I’m looking down on everyone else, honest. I’ve just been too hung-up on the past to move forward, that’s all. Still, something about Kiyomi’s words speak to me. Like she understands something I’m going through, maybe better than I do. Has she felt the same loneliness I feel? The same disconnection from the rest of the world that I do?

“Maybe you have a point,” I admit. “Maybe I am pushing other people away.”

“Good. Fuck ‘em.” She drops what’s left of her cigarette to the ground and stomps it under her heeled boot. “There’s something different about you, Narukami-kun. I want to see you around more.” I’m not sure what she’s seeing in me, but I’ll take it.

“Sure. You have the same class Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, right?”

“I do.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Guess so,” she concludes, before getting up and leaving me to enjoy the rest of my cigarette in solitude while I figure out what to make of her. A bit bratty and cynical, I think, but I get this sense that she knows what I’m going through. She clearly gets the same impression. I just wish she wasn’t so mean about it, really. But maybe that’s an opportunity. Maybe she needs someone in her life to break her out of that cynical slump she finds herself in. Maybe I need someone in my life to break me out of mine.

Whatever happens, I’m just glad I finally made a new friend today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we’re into chapter eight of _Memories of the City_ , once again a longer chapter than usual. Maybe chapters are just going to be longer from here on out? We’ll see. I can’t promise anything, but I kind of like it this way. Just depends on what I want to do with the chapter and how long I think it needs to be, really.
> 
> We open up in the Velvet Room, marking its first appearance in the story. As Igor mentions, Yu has already fulfilled his contract, but Margaret in particular wanted to speak to Yu about something. I’m heavily alluding to a certain scene involving Margaret in _Persona 4_ , though if you don’t know which one, I’d rather leave it to you to figure out.
> 
> And for those unaware, yes, it’s _Persona_ series canon that the music in the Velvet Room is actually playing there, and not just video game background music, haha. The first two _Persona_ games actually featured characters - Belladonna and Nameless - that sang and played the piano, respectively. They don’t appear in _P3_ or _P4_ , but I like to imagine they’re still there, in the background. Maybe Belladonna is driving the limo while Nameless is playing a tiny keyboard in the passenger’s seat.
> 
> The character of Ayumi came out of absolutely nowhere, and the idea just kind of occurred to me while I was writing. All the way back in chapter one, I made a reference to Yosuke being a bit of a party animal, so I wanted to come back to that in this chapter as I hadn’t really elaborated on it at all. So I came up with Yu going to wake Yosuke up and seeing the aftermath of the party in his bedroom, just as a gag, but then I figured - well, what now? Do I just have Yu sitting on the couch and watching TV? That’s a little boring, so I decided that maybe Yu actually meets this girl. I had to imagine what kind of girl would just go home with Yosuke out of the blue - she had to smart, a good judge of character, but also a bit sultry. She’s really fun to write, which is a shame, as she’s a one-off character. Maybe I’ll find a way to sneak her in to later scenes, haha.
> 
> We also get introduced to Kiyomi this chapter, a strange and very bitter young woman. She’s a bit rude and childish, isn’t she? But she and Yu manage to connect on a certain level, through their dissatisfaction with their lives and the world around them, and God knows Yu’s desperate for a new friend. I’m not sure she’s really what Yu’s looking for, but in his state of mind right now, maybe he can’t afford to be picky. We’ll see what happens, won’t we?
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from Whatsername, both a song title and central character in Green Day’s 2004 concept album _American Idiot_. Please keep an eye out for chapter nine, coming whenever it’s done, and as always feel free to reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com or leave me feedback here at AO3! Till next time.
> 
> \- Akinari


	9. To Old Friends and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange girl only gets stranger the more Yu comes to know her.

**January 7, 2015**

“Partner. You need to tell me something.” Yosuke leaps from his chair and badgers me right as I walk in the door after my last class, with not a moment to breathe. I’m starting to think this might become just a thing he does, now. He stares straight into my soul, more serious than I’ve seen him in a long time.

“W-what?”

“Who is that smokin’ hot girl you were hanging out with on campus today?” Yosuke Hanamura, master of the anticlimax. 

“Ah, you saw that.” I throw my backpack on the couch and take a seat; he follows and stands in front of me, blocking my view of the TV.

“I saw all of it. Those lips, those legs,” he motions his hands over the corresponding parts of himself. “Man, it’s no fair. Even out here you hog all the girls.” 

“Didn’t I just catch you having a threesome on Monday?”

“Hey, hey, that’s different! They just want me for my body.”

“Please don’t talk to me about your body—“

“Hold on. You aren’t, like, cheating on Chie, are you?” The mere question insults me enough to physically knock me back, whacking my head on the wall behind the couch.

“Of course not. Just trying to make a friend,” I wince, rubbing the back of my skull. He breathes relief for a moment before diving in head-first.

“So, when are you going to introduce me? What’s her name?”

“Kiyomi, and I don’t think she’s your type.” What type is she, anyway? Still trying to figure that one out myself.

“Why do you assume I’m interested in her like that?” Really?

“The rest of this conversation, for starters.”

“Oh,” he concedes defeat. “Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Yu. We should all hang out some time. It’s been too long since we really had a group get-together, you know?” That’s an understatement. How long has it actually been? I honestly can’t even remember at this point. At least months, possibly years.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

**January 9, 2015**

We’re sitting on a bench along the side of the main road running through campus, beneath the barren branches of the winter-ravaged trees that line the street. Kiyomi’s parked on my right, her slender legs crossed and propping up a notebook she scribbles in furiously. Her dress remains consistent day after day, I’ve noticed: black on black on more black, with only slight variations on the theme. Today, for instance, her shirt is sleeveless, an absolutely incomprehensible decision at this time of year that sends empathy chills through my skin. Somehow she doesn’t seem to mind.

“You aren’t freezing in those clothes?”

“Nope.” She doesn’t even look up from her notebook.

“You could borrow my jacket or something,” I offer, my chivalry getting the better of me as usual.

“I already told you I’m fine.” She scratches something out in her notebook before just angrily ripping the page out, crumpling it up, and shoving it in her bag. “Cold weather doesn’t bother me. Never has.” I back off and lean back on the bench, gazing up at the sky between the tree branches hanging above.

“Such a grey sky today,” I observe, unsure of what else to talk about. “Kind of depressing.”

“I like it,” she comments. “Grey skies are calming to me. A bright sun, a blue sky, they’re loud. Irritating. When it’s grey, it’s cool out, and you aren’t being blinded by the sun. Much nicer.” A fair argument, I suppose. She closes her notebook and slips it into her backpack.

“What were you writing in there, anyway?” A simple question she seems reluctant to answer.

“None of your business.”

———

We’re walking down the halls of an outdoor shopping mall near campus, a popular spot for students either looking to blow their parents’ money or earn their own at a part-time job. She taps me on the shoulder as we pass a coffee shop.

“Could we stop here?”

“Sure.” So she walks up to the shop and directs a request towards the cashier.

“Can I get something warm?”

“Warm?” The cashier’s rightly baffled. “We have a variety of hot coffee drinks, which kind would you like?”

“I don’t care,” she shrugs, “just something warm. I’m thirsty.” Before this turns ugly, I step in and order for her.

“Sorry about that, could you get her a hot cocoa, please?”

“Coming right up,” the cashier laughs awkwardly as she heads back to prepare the drink. When she returns, she rings up the order.

“That’ll be four hundred yen.” Kiyomi looks up at me expectantly. It’s early days, but I already feel like this is a somewhat abusive friendship. Still, I pull out my wallet and pay for the drink, which Kiyomi is already sipping before I’m even done paying for it.

We keep moving through the crowded mall, bumping into people here and there as we fight our way through the consumerist masses. Looking at Kiyomi, I notice she looks uncomfortable being surrounded by so many people. Her hands clasp her cup tightly, and her eyes just stare at the ground, avoiding contact with everyone around her. Is it just claustrophobia? So I guide her to a secluded corner of the mall, a short alleyway leading to a maintenance closet, where we can escape the noise for a bit. No chairs or benches here, so we just squat on the concrete, Kiyomi still sipping her cocoa intently.

“Something warm, huh? I thought cold weather doesn’t bother you?” Just a little tease.

“It doesn’t,” she insists. “Just had a craving.”

“Anyway,” I continue, not pressing the issue any further, “do you not want to be here or something? You looked a little out of it.”

“It’s not that.”

“Is it me?”

“No. You bought me hot cocoa. You’re good people. It’s everyone else.” Ah, this subject again.

“Why are you so bothered by other people?” She takes a long gulp of her cocoa and sets the cup on the floor beside her.

“Most people are ignorant. They like their ignorance. Look at them all,” she flicks her hand at the people passing the alley, “just running store to store, eager to spend their money on things they don’t need. Because the media tells them to. Because culture says they should.”

I feel like I should argue - what a _teenager_ thing to say - but do I even disagree with that? When Izanami told the Investigation Team about why she set up the Midnight Channel, about how humans would rather live in ignorance and become Shadows, I think we all admitted to ourselves that she wasn’t really wrong. Most people are like that. But not us, right? The whole reason we fought, and struggled, and ultimately defeated her was because we didn’t want to live that way. We were better. We’d make our way of life work. (And perhaps, if I’m honest with myself, it’s not all I hoped it’d be.)

“You’ve just got to find the right people. Not everyone’s like that.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do with you. You seem like you understand, like you’re different.”

“Just me, though? You must have other friends, right?” She turns away from me, her body language drooping. A sore subject? She quiets for a few awkward moments, finally speaking very softly.

“I did. It was a long time ago, now. We were very close, or I thought we were, but…” She trails off, burying her head in her knees. A few years later she emerges. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s stupid and I should forget it.”

“It’s fine. I just met you a few days ago, you don’t have to pour your heart out to me.” So I was right. She stretches her legs out and gazes up at the grey sky for the second time today, and for the second time today I join her.

Then a raindrop pelts my face.

And another. And another. Within a minute the slow drip becomes a gentle shower, sending Kiyomi - cursing under her breath - and me seeking shelter. We find it a minute later at a table outside a restaurant, covered by an overhead canopy. The drizzle continues for a few minutes as Kiyomi sits, leaning into the table with her head rested on her arm, observing it with the closest thing I’ve seen her express to wonder.

“How do you feel about the rain?” She always asks the strangest things.

“Not a fan,” I opine. “I’ve got some nasty memories associated with rain.” If you were to play a game of word associations with me, and ‘rain’ came up, my top three picks would probably be something like ‘fog’, ‘dungeon’, and ‘murder’.

“It’s beautiful,” she muses, “like the tears of the gods. It’s nice to know they have feelings, too.”

———

Once the rain passes, the sun begins its descent, not that you can really tell through the clouds. Kiyomi walks by my side, like a stray puppy trying to follow a stranger home, as I head to the train station to wait for a ride back to the dorm. A few minutes of awkward silence follow while we stroll down the busy sidewalk, broken by a sudden question.

“So where did you come from?”

There’s something peculiar about her phrasing. She’s technically saying the right words to convey the question, but most people would ask something like, “are you from the city,” or “what prefecture are you from?” The way she asked it comes off like asking where _people_ come from. You see, my mother and father loved each other very much…

“Here,” I reply, not saying any of what I just thought. “Well, more like Shinjuku, I suppose. My parents were always traveling and relocating for work, so I’ve lived all over Tokyo and in a few small towns. What about you?”

“I’ve been all over the country,” she replies with a hint of melancholy in her voice. “But it’s the same wherever I go. The only real difference is how noisy the streets are.”

“Ah, I know that feeling,” I confide. “When I was a kid, that’s how it was for me. I never stayed in one place for very long, so it all just blurred together into a bunch of houses that never felt like home.”

“When you were a kid? Did it ever stop?”

“For a while. One year I stayed with my uncle while my parents were out on business overseas. He lives in a small town called Inaba, you ever heard of it?” She considers it for a moment before shaking her head. “Anyway, I met some incredible people out there. Best friends I’ve ever had, actually.”

“Must be nice.” I can taste the bitterness in her tone.

“It was, until I moved back here. Ever since then I’ve fallen back into the old status quo. All those friends were suddenly a hundred miles away and I was alone again.” We’ve reached my platform, so we take a seat on the bench. A bit crowded, so she nestles in close to me.

“Nothing good ever lasts,” she laments. “You think you know someone, you think they care about you, but that’s never permanent. Everyone leaves in the end.”

“That’s not true,” I counter. “It’s difficult, yeah, but you just have to work on keeping those friendships alive. My best friend from back in Inaba’s actually my roommate here in college, for instance. We’ve managed to stay close.”

“It’s not the same, though, is it? You may have been best friends then, but I’m sure you aren’t as close now as you were. Time and distance do that to a friendship. Now you’re just trying to recapture whatever you had back then.” More bluntly-put, uncomfortable truths from this strange girl. Even if I don’t want to admit it to myself, things have been a bit strained with Yosuke and I. We try, and maybe it’s my fault, but we don’t hang out like we used to. Many days we just occupy the same space and nothing more. There’s spurts of friendship, and I think he still cares like I still care, but she’s right. It’s not the same. I remember what Yosuke asked a few days ago.

“You know, he actually wanted to know if you might hang out with both of us sometime.” Her skepticism burns through her face. “He’s good people, I promise.” She contemplates the idea for a few minutes as my train pulls up. She finally responds as I’m grabbing my bag and getting ready to leave.

“Sure.” Honestly, I was expecting her to say no. Yosuke’ll be thrilled about that.

“Thank you, I’ll let him know. We’ll find something to do. Anyway, I’ve got to go.”

“Later.” A terse goodbye as I board the train and the doors shutter behind me. I take the last remaining seat, and the train pushes forward and leaves Kiyomi behind. And that’s the worst part, I realize, as I watch her grow smaller through the dirty windows of the train car. The worst part of having company is when they’re gone. When loneliness is your only company you grow to accept it, to tolerate it. It becomes the normal. Yet when loneliness is the exception, when you know it’s a short phase between bouts of social joy, that too is tolerable. It’s when people give you just a glimpse of that happiness, of being cared for and appreciated, that loneliness hurts the most. But somehow I’d still rather suffer through that than what came before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, chapter nine. Has it really been five months since I published chapter one? It seems absolutely crazy, thinking about it. When I first started chapter one I just thought it’d be interesting to write a portrait of Yu going from a god-slaying, harem-toting hero to sitting alone on his couch eating ramen at four in the morning and wondering where everything went wrong. I always had ideas about how I could develop it into a proper story, but I never expected that I’d still be at it five months later, much less twenty thousand words deep and counting. To everyone who’s read this far or given me kudos, thank you so much. While I like to think I write this for myself more than anyone else, I probably would’ve lost the motivation long ago if I didn’t think anyone else liked it. So thank you again and again. It means a lot to me.
> 
> A more average-length chapter this time, we get a glimpse into the mind of Kiyomi. She had a really striking introduction last chapter, I think - very abrasive - so I wanted to give her a bit more nuance this chapter. She’s still very in-your-face, blunt, cynical. But there’s a human side to her as well, something sympathetic. She’s very relatable to Yu, especially, who has gone through many of the same experiences. Feeling isolated. Feeling like a sad misfit in a society of happy people. She’s kind of meant to be a contrast to Yu’s other friends, fairly optimistic people who try to reassure him that everything will be alright. Instead she reinforces his depressive mindset. No, Yu, you’re not wrong, she says. The world is, in fact, shit.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the song of the same name by Titus Andronicus, off their 2010 album _The Monitor_. This is another chapter that went through a million different titles before I finally landed on one I was totally satisfied with, and it actually delayed the chapter a bit because I didn’t want to publish until I was happy with it! And God, the song fits so well, that first verse says it all: “You have got a lot of nerve to behave the way that you do/ Making me listen to all of your carrying on/ You are not the only one who thinks that life is so cruel/ Me, I have got problems of my own.”
> 
> I know this was an unusually quick update from me, not even two weeks since the last chapter, but I’d caution against getting used to it. Chapter 10, whenever it comes around, is going to cover another character arc for someone who hasn’t been in _MotC_ yet, so look forward to it! In the meantime, feel free to comment here at AO3 or reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com - and I’ll see you around again next chapter.
> 
> \- Akinari


	10. Anklebiters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yu and Yosuke bring Kiyomi to a concert, but the show isn't really the main attraction.

**January 14, 2015**

_This weekend! One night only!_

_A live midnight performance by super-cute idol Rise Kujikawa, performing at Shibuya O-East this Saturday night, the seventeenth of January!_

_Don’t miss your chance to see the one and only Risette performing all your favorite hits!_

“Hey, Yosuke?” I turn my head away from the obnoxious TV ad, full of flashing colors and bright lights. He replies from his bedroom.

“What’s up?”

“Have you talked to Rise lately?”

“Not really, she’s been super busy, hasn’t she?” Yes, which is precisely why I haven’t really spoken to her in a long time, either.

“Did you hear she’s doing a show at O-East this weekend?”

“Did I hear?” He emerges from his bedroom, hiding something behind his back. “I didn’t just hear, I bought us tickets.” He reveals his hand, proudly displaying three tickets to the show with a grin on his face.

“Why’d you get three?”

“Because you’re bringing Kiyomi-san with us.”

“I don’t know if she’d agree to that.”

“She said she’d do something with us, right? Besides, I thought it’d be a good way to get _you_ out of the house and give Rise some support.” True on all counts. Well, Kiyomi didn’t agree specifically to a concert. Doesn’t seem like her idea of a good time, from my impression of her.

“So what kind of seats did you get us?”

“It’s Shibuya O-East, dude! We’re gonna be on the floor. I’m planning on getting there early, so we can be right up close to the stage.” Ever the hardcore Risette fan. Something snaps to me.

“You know, you probably could have just asked Rise for tickets and gotten them for free.” His face tenses up and burns red with realization. Whoops. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.

“Crap. These weren’t cheap, either…”

**January 17, 2015**

Kiyomi agreed to go, begrudgingly. Yosuke and I pull up to campus in his car to pick her up at around seven in the evening, but she’s not here just yet.

“So why did she ask us to pick her up on campus? Where does she live?” Good question, but hell if I know.

“No idea. She just told me she’d meet us here.”

“Well, while we’re waiting, tell me a bit about her! I want to know what I’m getting into here.”

“Uh,” I stutter, just now recognizing that I still don’t know that much about her. “She wears black all the time?”

“Like, _only_ black?”

“Basically.” Yosuke loses himself in thought, presumably considering what that could mean for a few minutes. His concentration shatters when Kiyomi, seemingly out of nowhere, raps her knuckles on his window. Startled, he unlocks the doors and she climbs into the backseat.

“Hey, Kiyomi-san,” I introduce her. “This is Yosuke Hanamura.”

“Nice to meet you!” Yosuke grins widely at her from the driver’s seat.

“Hi.” No time for pleasantries, apparently.

“Do you mind if I call you Kiyomi-san?”

“Whatever.” She leans into her door and stares out the window. Yosuke turns to me, baffled. She doesn’t make great first impressions, does she? She doesn’t really want to go to an idol concert either, I bet, but hey. It’s her fault for accepting the invitation. I certainly didn’t make her. But Yosuke, not one to give up so easily, continues his efforts as we drive to the venue.

“So, are you a big Risette fan, Kiyomi?”

“Not at all.”

“Really? She’s super cool. Did you know Yu and I were actually close friends with her back in high school?” I suspect Yosuke’s very proud of this fact.

“Were you, now?” She turns her head and narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.

“Yeah, we were,” I confirm. “She has family in Inaba, so when she took a break from the idol business a few years back, she went to the same high school. We were her senpai.”

“The worst part was, she had a super obvious crush on Yu,” Yosuke blabbers on, saying more than he should. “She was all over him, but Yu just shot her down. All the other guys were so jealous. Man,” he takes a hand off the wheel and nudges me with his elbow, “he may not look like it, but Yu was a total heartbreaker in high school.”

“I bet,” Kiyomi agrees, to my surprise. Is that really the impression I give off?

———

It’s only eight o’clock - the show doesn’t start for four hours - but the line’s already beginning. We’re about tenth in line, the nine ahead of us comprising mostly of obsessive Rise fans, clothed in branded apparel and discussing the intricate details of her physique, a rather awful conversation for two of her closest friends to overhear. Yosuke particularly looks at them with disgust, though it’s hard to tell if he’s disgusted by their gossip or their inability to shower. Kiyomi stares off in the other direction, acting disinterested, though for some reason I get the impression she’s actually listening in closely. After a while Yosuke leans in and whispers in my ear.

“I’d almost go back a few spots in line to not have to listen to these assholes.”

“If you’re willing to, I’m willing to,” I reply. He just grumbles to himself and crosses his arms, leaning against the railing encasing the line. The superfans’ chattering continues ceaselessly, prattling on about their idol’s every feature and mannerism.

“So what do you think she’ll open with tonight?”

“I hope it’s not True Story again, it’s _so_ played out at this point.”

“I just want to see if she wears that red top with the short skirt at this show.”

“Nah, she saves those outfits for her boyfriend now.”

“That’s just a rumor, isn’t it?”

“The press has pictures of them kissing at his college, it’s totally real.”

“Oh man, I always knew Risette was going to be a slut.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a career-killer soon. I hear this might be her last big tour.”

“I wonder how many times she’s done it with him.”

“Shut the hell up!”

The whole crowd turns to face a howling mad Yosuke, his fists clenched tightly and his face sporting the look of a man who’s not afraid to spill some blood. He storms past me and stares straight in to the heart of the guy who made that last comment, a plump, short man whose face immediately breaks a sweat when he makes eye contact with Yosuke despite the cold. Yosuke quickly turns to me and mutters:

“If this goes bad, I’m counting on you to have my back, partner.” I nod as he turns to face the fans. “Hey, morons,” he shouts, “do you know what business it is of yours that Rise has a boyfriend? None! Rise’s got enough crap to deal with without you creeps sticking your nose in her personal life.”

“She’s an idol,” retorts one of the fans, brave enough to confront Yosuke. “She doesn’t get a personal life. An idol belongs to everyone.”

“Just because she’s an idol doesn’t mean she’s not a human being,” Yosuke yells back, his anger rising still. “She gets to have relationships just like everyone else. Just because you’re a disgusting lowlife that’s never had a relationship doesn’t mean you can insult other people who are happier than you.” A low blow, but it silences the line in front of us instantly. A few of them look angry, but none of them dare to speak up for fear of Yosuke’s wrath. He backs away and reassumes his position against the railing, arms crossed. “Cowards,” he sputters under his breath. “It makes me sick, how some people talk about Rise.”

“That’s because it’s sickening,” Kiyomi chimes in, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. “People don’t see idols as real. They only see what they want to see. She’s a fantasy to them, and they lash out against anything that breaks that illusion.” Having said her piece, she blows a bubble with her gum and looks back the other way. I turn to Yosuke.

“That was awfully cool coming from you, Yosuke,” I taunt. “I remember when you were fawning all over Rise a few years ago yourself.”

“Hey, that was before I met her,” Yosuke argues. “I dunno, maybe I did kind of come off like those guys back then. That’s really embarrassing to imagine, thinking about it. But when the shock wore off I realized she’s just like us. Once you see someone’s Sha- ahem,“ he stops himself, realizing we’re in public. “Once you know someone like we know Rise, you look at them differently, you know? Maybe even how I see, like, celebrities in general.”

“Look at you, growing as a person.”

“Shut up.”

**January 18, 2015**

The lights fade along with the noise of the crowd.

“Shh, here she comes!” Yosuke coddles up to the very edge of the railing by the stage, pushing back against the horde of rampaging fans trying to close the gap between themselves and their idol. As the anxiousness of the crowd grows ever more palpable, a familar guitar riff begins. I hear a fan behind me.

“Oh come on, True Story _again?_ Seriously?”

The rest of the band kicks in, and a series of spotlights cast their glow upon the stage, revealing the entire troupe. In the middle of the group stands a young girl with her long light-brown hair done up in two large pigtails, dressed in a long orange dress with red high heels. As the verse begins, Rise steps forward, a spotlight following her as she sings.

_You got yourself behind a door, deep inside your heart again…_

“I LOVE YOU, RISETTE!” The guy right behind me screams nearly loudly enough to deafen me. Should’ve brought earplugs. The song continues, Rise hitting every note and nailing every dance step with the deceptive ease of a practiced pro. Of course I know she works hard on her performances, but this is one of the few times I’ve ever gotten to see her perform for myself. It’s not my kind of music, to be honest, but I can’t help but respect how good she is at what she does. After the song ends, she addresses the crowd.

“Hi-hi everyone! Thank you all so much for coming out tonight! I, Risette, and the rest of my friends have an amazing show lined up for you all, and we’re gonna do our best. We couldn’t do it without you!” The crowd roars in approval, and she starts looking around the audience. Eventually her eyes land on me. I’m sure she can’t hear me over all the hysteria, but I mouth the word “hi” and wave in the hope that she notices. She’s taken aback for just a second, before smiling straight at me and waving back. The guy next to me gets the wrong idea.

“Did you see that? Risette just waved at me,” he brags to what I assume is his friend.

“Alright everybody,” Rise continues. “I’m really proud of this next song…”

———

“Are you Narukami and Hanamura?”

We turn to face a security guard, tall and intimidating, who for some reason has decided to single us out as we stand in line for T-shirts after the show. The rest of the line turns to stare while I anxiously try to figure out why a security guard would be after us. Yosuke didn’t even bring any swords to the concert this time.

“Y-yes,” I answer hestitantly, glancing over at a pale Yosuke.

“Good. Kujikawa-san requested that we escort you to visit her, if you would like.” My muscles relax as Yosuke lets out a deep sigh of relief beside me. The other members of the line have a different reaction.

“What? They get to visit Risette?”

“Who are those guys? Do they know her?” Yes, we do. Thanks for asking.

“Awesome,” Yosuke replies to the guard, “but is it okay if we bring a friend along?” He points over to Kiyomi, who is leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, having opted not to stand in line. The guard speaks quietly into a microphone on his lapel, before nodding a few moments later.

“That should be fine.”

“Sweet,” Yosuke grabs me by the arm and drags me behind the security guard, Kiyomi trailing behind us, confused. The guard takes us through a series of corridors in the depths of the building, past yet more security guards. Each one eyes us suspiciously, as if the three of us could possibly pose a threat against these guys. Finally we arrive in a brightly-lit hallway with a series of doors, which appear to be the idols’ dressing rooms. The guard guides to one door, labelled “KUJIKAWA”, that he rasps on gently. A reply from a familar voice comes from within.

“Come in!” The guard opens the door, and Yosuke and I take a step in.

“Senpai~!”

Rise - still dressed in her stage outfit - tackles me as soon as we enter the room, pushing me back a step or two with a forceful hug. She rubs her head in my chest for a moment before moving on to Yosuke, who’s visibly disappointed by her slightly less enthusiastic embrace.

“Yosuke-kun, you’re so sweaty.” She turns her head away and feigns disgust.

“It’s nasty down there on the show floor,” he gripes defensively. “All those people, pushing against me, trying to get up close to the stage…”

“Yeah, yeah,” she giggles, turning to Kiyomi. “And I’m sorry, we haven’t met! What’s your name?”

“Kiyomi.”

“Nice to meet you, Kiyomi-chan! I’m Rise Kujikawa, but you probably already knew that, haha. You’re with senpai?”

“Yes,” Kiyomi replies curtly. Rise looks suspiciously at me.

“She’s cute, senpai. What’s going on with you and Chie?”

“Who’s Chie?” Kiyomi turns to me puzzled as Rise only gets more suspicious. Yosuke’s stifling laughter, or in other words, not helping.

“I-I guess I haven’t told Kiyomi about Chie, now that I think about it. But it’s not like that. Kiyomi and I are just friends, we met at school.” Rise giggles again and plops down on the sofa opposite her dressing room mirror.

“Just teasing! I know you wouldn’t do that. Chie-senpai would kick you to the moon if you did.” She pats the cushions next to her in invitation, so I take a seat by her right. Yosuke sits on her other side, leaving Kiyomi to sit in a chair across the room. Rise sidles a little closer to me.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys. I wish you would’ve told me you were coming to my show. I could’ve gotten you free tickets, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” Yosuke mutters.

“You’ve been hard to get ahold of lately,” I follow. “I get that you’re busy with work, but you haven’t responded to my emails in weeks.”

“Ohmigod, I’m so sorry, I just realized,” Rise apologizes frantically. “I had to change my address like two months ago and I never sent you my new one! Let me send you something now.” She hurriedly pulls out her phone and thumbs at the screen.

“You had to change it?” Yosuke asks.

“Ugh, yeah,” she grumbles. “Someone in the media leaked my old one out and I got flooded with nasty messages. There you go, sent.” My phone chirps with an email from an unfamiliar address - “Hihi senpai~!!! ^^”

“Those people are assholes,” Yosuke spits.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Rise sighs. “And I can’t stay too long either, I’ve got to get back to my hotel soon. But I wanted to see you guys, I’ve missed you!” She wraps her arms around me and Yosuke and squeezes tight. “When I’m done touring, we need to hang out sometime. I know some really cool spots around town we could check out.”

“That sounds great,” I nod.

“Maybe your new friend - Kiyomi, right? - could come too.” Rise smiles over at Kiyomi, who doesn’t return the favor.

“We’ll see.” Kiyomi turns away, blowing once more on her gum. Surely it’s not the same piece? Rise side-eyes me like I’ve brought a snake into her room.

“A-anyway,” Yosuke deftly segues, “we’ll definitely find some time to hang out. You don’t have too many shows left, right?”

“Yup! Just one more in two days in Yokohama. We’re driving out there tomorrow to start getting ready for the big finale.”

“The finale of your career,” Kiyomi mumbles just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“What did you just say?” Rise glares over at Kiyomi with murderous intent.

“Don’t take it personal, it’s not your fault your fans are petty children.”

“Hey! Don’t say that about my fans!” Rise gets up and storms over to Kiyomi, who remains as unphased as ever. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.”

“The same fans that were calling you a slut in line earlier?”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Yosuke gets up and walks over to them, putting himself between Rise and Kiyomi. A braver man than I. “That was way out of line. You can’t talk to Rise like that.”

“I already said it’s not her fault,” Kiyomi argues back. “Idol culture chews up and spits out everyone eventually.” Rise looks like she’s about to slap Kiyomi, but instead she just drops to her knees, sobbing tears that ruin her makeup. Yosuke kneels over to comfort her as I walk over, but she pushes us away.

“Go,” she chokes hoarsely. “Please just go.”

“Rise—“ I try to say something, anything to comfort her, but she won’t hear it.

“I said go.” Yosuke glares intently at Kiyomi, his fists clenched, his lip bitten.

“Come on, partner. You heard her.” He exits the room, slamming the door behind him. Kiyomi follows afterwards, leaving me alone with Rise for just a moment. It kills me to leave her like this, especially since I feel like it’s my fault. But she doesn’t say anything, just motioning limply towards the door with her hand, so I have no choice. I walk out through the door and leave her be.

———

The car ride back home suffocates me with silence. Yosuke won’t say it, but he’s annoyed with Kiyomi, and me by association. He grips the steering wheel with the force of all the frustration he’s bottling up. Meanwhile she just sits in the backseat, absorbed as before with the fleeting sights of the moonlit city. I join her in staring out the window, my eyes struggling to hold themselves open. Usually, if I’m awake at three in the morning, I’ve had at least _some_ sleep. Not tonight. Eventually Kiyomi speaks up.

“You never told me who Chie is.” Did I forget earlier? Whoops.

“Oh, she’s my girlfriend. I met her back in high school, too.” She doesn’t really respond to that; she just makes a “tsch” sort of sound and continues gazing through the glass. Right back to silence, then. How far is it to the dorm, anyway? Was it always this long of a drive? Ugh. I lean my head against the window and close my eyes, hoping to fall asleep. Maybe we’ll be home by the time I wake up. Maybe.

But the sleep never comes, the low growl of the tires rolling over the concrete and the thoughts in my head keeping me in that state between consciousness and unconsciousness. It’s that same state I enter every night before I can properly sleep. It’s almost self-destructive - when my mind needs rest the most it decides instead to ruminate about all my biggest anxieties and keep me awake as long as possible, until it physically can’t function without sleep any longer.

Tonight I feel like a jackass for bringing Kiyomi along, who clearly didn’t want to go. She clearly bothered Yosuke and Rise, too. But if Kiyomi didn’t want to go, why did she agree to go anyway? She’s only known me like a week and a half, she’s not obligated to say yes. I didn’t try to pressure her. And if Yosuke and Rise are bothered by her, shouldn’t I be? Maybe I just know her better than they do, that there’s more to her. Or maybe I’m just so desperate for company I’ll take anything. I don’t know. This whole night just feels surreal at this point.

A vibration in my pocket startles me awake, so I drowsily pull out my phone. Through my yawn I see a notification, one email.

“Senpaiiii, come meet me at Shibuya Excel Hotel, just you (∩˃o˂∩)♡”

On one hand, she seems to have cheered up. On the other, she can’t be serious. I’m barely conscious. It’s three in the morning.

“It’s _three in the morning_ ,” I reply. Another buzz, another message from Rise.

“Pretty pls? Ill b gone 2morrow. ( ≧Д≦)” Sigh. I owe it to her after earlier.

“Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.” The lengths I go for my friends.

“Who’s that?” Yosuke inquires, noticing me texting. The ‘just you’ makes me think Rise wants me to be discreet.

“Wrong email address,” I cover. I can tell he thinks I’m lying, but he drops the subject and keeps driving.

“Oh yeah,” Yosuke turns back to Kiyomi. “Where should we drop you off? Or do you want to crash on our couch or something tonight?”

“You can drop me off right here,” she drones.

“Like, right here? In the middle of town?”

“Right here.” For the last time tonight, Yosuke stares at Kiyomi in the rear view mirror, watching her closely as if she could explode any second.

“… _Okay,_ ” he grumbles, pulling the car up to the nearest curb. Kiyomi steps out of the car without a word and begins walking the opposite direction down the sidewalk. As soon as her door shuts, Yosuke breathes out with relief. He questions me as the car begins moving once more.

“So what is her deal?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road.

“What do you mean?”

“Dude, you can’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“She’s not always like that,” I assure him. “I mean, she’s usually a bit on edge, but I think something set her off tonight. I’m not sure what.”

“Forget about her being a complete jerk for a sec, she’s just super weird. Like, we picked her up on campus and just dropped her off in the middle of town. What the hell? Is she homeless or something?”

“I have no idea.” I really don’t.

“She creeps me out, man. I’d be careful around her.”

“Duly noted.”

———

After getting home and downing almost-dangerous doses of coffee in a bid to keep myself awake, I cover myself in as many layers of clothing as I can fit on and make my way down Dogenzaka once more, towards Rise’s hotel. Even at this hour Shibuya never sleeps. All the lights and noise wouldn’t let it even if it tried. 

The girl sitting outside the hotel, staring intently at her phone - her snow-riddled hair down, her face shrouded by a thick orange scarf, her thick layers of makeup washed away - is not the famous idol I saw at the concert earlier. This is the Rise Kujikawa I remember from high school. The one that would drag me around Okina City shopping, that would laugh at my stupid jokes and cry on my shoulder. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her. Her eyes widen when she sees me walking towards her.

“Senpai, you came!” She puts her phone in her pocket and heads my direction.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I yawn.

“Aw, are you sleepy? I know it’s super late, but I sleep all day on the bus and stay up all night when I’m on tour, haha. Anyway, come on in, it’s freezing cold out here.” She grabs my arm and drags me into the hotel, where the clicking of her heels on the white tile floor reverberate across the lobby. As we walk, she reaches up and ruffles my hair to shake the snow out.

“You need a haircut.” I know. After a brief elevator ride, we make our way to her hotel room, a one-bed suite with a vast window overlooking the city lights. At this hour I can’t help but slip off my shoes and immediately drop myself upon the white sheets of her bed, a sight she snickers at as she sits at the end of the mattress.

“Wow, you really are tired, aren’t you?” She grabs a remote and turns on the TV, perhaps hoping the background noise will stop me from sleeping.

“It’s _four in the morning_ ,” I reiterate in an attempt to get across how unreasonable of a request she made. Though really, I’m the one at fault for obliging it. “You’re lucky tomorrow’s Sunday and I don’t have class.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you, senpai. You don’t have to rub it in.” She loosens her scarf and kicks off her shoes, and lays down on the bed next to me. In times like these, when I’m feeling down and depressed, it can be somewhat comforting to remember how many people would kill to be laying next to Rise Kujikawa on her bed in a lavish hotel suite.

“Your boyfriend probably wouldn’t like seeing this,” I joke.

“He’d get over it. Besides, I don’t think you have any room to talk, silly. Who was that girl you were with earlier?”

“I told you, she’s a friend from college.”

“I don’t like her.” Join the club.

“Nobody does, apparently.” I roll over and face her. “Sorry if she was mean to you before.”

“It’s fine,” she sniffs. “I’m used to it by now. She wasn’t saying anything I haven’t heard before. I just wasn’t expecting it from a friend of yours.”

“She has a habit of saying things people don’t want to hear.”

“You should tell her that’s a bad habit.”

“Hah, I don’t think she’d listen.”

“Enough about her. I didn’t invite you over to talk about some girl I don’t know! I miss you,” she pouts.

“I’ve missed you too,” I mumble through tired lips. It’s true. Rise’s honestly one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and I hate that I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like.

“When I saw you and Yosuke in the crowd at my show, my heart skipped a beat. In a good way, I mean.” She picks herself up and sits upright. “To be honest, I’ve been pretty down lately, so it’s really nice to see you again.”

“What’s been bringing you down?”

“C’mon, senpai. I’m an idol, all my problems get aired on TV for everyone to talk about. I know you’ve heard what people are saying about me lately.”

“Yeah, I have. It’s really shitty, the way they talk about you.”

“I know, but I still feel… I guess, like it’s my fault, somehow. Like I’m letting my fans down or something.” No. No no no no.

“Don’t listen to them. Every time an idol gets in a relationship, some creeper feels like they’ve been cheated on. Remember Adachi? He’s the kind of asshole that’s saying that stuff.”

“But those same people are the reason I have a job, senpai. It’s not so simple for me.” She droops a bit, wrapping her arms around her angled knees. “I’m not from a rich family like you, you know. My parents have been really hard on me about this, and if all the outrage about this doesn’t blow over soon… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Have you talked to your boyfriend about all this?” She laughs a sad laugh.

“Takumi-kun’s been really nice about it, and he tries to be supportive, but I know it’s been hard on him too. We haven’t been going out that long and, well, I don’t know that he’s really prepared for being an idol’s boyfriend, you know?”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“He’s going to school in Osaka, so he can’t really travel on tour with me. That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you tonight, too. You’ve always been there for me, you’ve always helped me figure these things out…”

“Rise, you know I’m always here for you. And I am one-hundred percent on your side in this. But I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have my _own_ shit together.” She just smiles and puts her hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry for putting all this on you, senpai. I know you’ve been going through a lot lately, too. I think I just wanted to talk to you about it.” She stands up and starts walking towards the bathroom. “I’ll just be a moment, sorry.” She walks in and closes the door, leaving me alone on the bed. I sit up and look around the room a little more closely. It’s a beautiful suite, and the view from the window is spectacular; from this high up you can see just how busy the city is, pinpoint every building, every shop. I get up and pace around, trying to find the energy to stay awake. My eyes fall on a letter on the corner desk. I’m sure it’s private, but with it out in the open like this, it’s hard for me not to see what’s written on it - it’s a fan letter from a young girl. Sitting on the desk seems to be a box full of letters. Flipping through them, they all seem to be from the same girl.

“Oh, you saw that,” Rise mews from the bathroom doorway. I didn’t even hear her open the door. “You should know better than to look through a girl’s personal belongings.”

“Sorry, it was just laying on the desk and caught my eye.” Honest.

“It’s fine, haha. I think I told you about that girl, a long time ago. She’s been writing me fan mail for years.”

“For years?” This sounds vaguely familiar.

“Yeah, she’s really sweet. Even now she sends me letters, about how all the stuff they’re saying is mean and that she still believes in me.” She wipes a single tear from her cheek. “I keep all her letters with me in that box. They help keep me going.”

“Have you ever written back?”

“A few times. She’s the only fan I’ve ever personally written to, actually.”

“I bet she really loved that.” Too tired to continue standing, I lay back down.

“Oh yeah. I figure it’s the least I could do. Her support has meant a lot to me, especially lately.” She plops back down on the bed with me and stares at the ceiling for a while. Unable to keep my eyes open, I’m just starting to drift off when she asks a sudden question.

“Senpai?”

“Hmm?”

“Why’d you reject me?”

“… Huh?”

“Back in high school, I mean.” That came out of nowhere.

“I don’t remember, it was years ago.”

“Come on. There must have been a reason.”

“Why are you asking me this now?” Seriously.

“Don’t worry, senpai. It’s not like I’m still upset about it or anything, I got over you years ago.” Good, because this would suddenly get very uncomfortable otherwise. “But you still rejected me. And now my fans are upset with me. And my boyfriend’s been weird around me lately, too. I guess I can’t help but wonder, is it me? Is there something wrong with me?” Her voice gets quieter; she turns and faces the opposite wall. I suspect she doesn’t want me to see her crying.

“That’s not it at all. When you asked me out, I think I was already getting close to Chie, for one thing. I don’t know, maybe if things had been slightly different I might have said yes. I promise it had nothing to do with you not being good enough. And I’ve already told you what I think of your fans.”

“I told myself—” she stops mid-sentence to sniffle. “I told myself, when I went back to being an idol, that I wanted everyone to see the real me. I was gonna be the same person on stage that I was with you and the others. Maybe that was stupid. Maybe people don’t _want_ to see the real me. Maybe all they ever wanted was Risette.”

“I don’t know what everyone else wants,” I murmur, “but don’t ever think no one appreciates the real you. I do. Yosuke does. We all do. You’re a strong girl, Rise. You’ll make it through this one way or another.”

“Thanks, senpai. I know you mean it. This whole mess has just been really difficult for me.”

“No problem,” I assure her.

“And hey. If you’re going through anything, you can always talk to me too, alright? I was a wallflower once, you know.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.” My words are sincere, but at this point I am utterly incapable of keeping my eyelids open another second. “By the way, it’s a long way back to the dorm. Do you mind if I just pass out on your bed for a bit?” She laughs softly.

“It’s okay with me. Not too long, though. My bus leaves at eleven, so I’ve gotta be out of here before then.” Without another word, I take her up on that offer and proceed directly to passing out.

———

A knock on the door wakes me up. My eyes take a minute to adjust to the sunlight pouring through the window; I can faintly make out the silhouette of Rise sitting at the table directly in front of it. As she gets up to answer the door, I glance at the clock - nine thirty. Only four and a half hours of sleep, but it’ll have to be enough. When she opens the door, I see a bespectacled man that I recognize, though I forget from where.

“Good morning Rise-san, have you had breakfast yet?”

“Yup! Went down and had a bite about an hour ago.”

“Good, good. We’re getting ready to leave in about an hour, so make sure—“ he trails off mid-sentence, having noticed me laying in her bed. It occurs to me that this must look incredibly suspicious.

“Sorry to intrude, but who is he?”

“Oh, Inoue-san, you’ve met him before. He’s a senpai of mine from back in Inaba, Yu Narukami.” Inoue-san, now that’s familiar. He’s her manager.

“Ah, yes, I remember meeting you a few years ago. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” I grunt, only half-awake.

“Rise-san, while I’m sure you had the best of intentions, you might want to be more careful. The last thing we need is more rumors.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she defends herself. “If people want to start rumors because I let a friend crash in my hotel room, I’m counting on you to stick up for me.”

“Y-yes, of course!” He adjusts his glasses a bit as I sit up and stretch. “Anyway, sorry to intrude, but we will be leaving in just over an hour, so make sure you’ve gotten all your things together and packed on to the bus by then.”

“No problem,” she chirps, closing the door. She turns to me. “Sorry senpai, looks like it’s about time for you to go.”

“Yeah,” I yawn, walking over to the coffee machine on the counter. It looks like she’s already made a pot. “Gimme a second to wake up though, at least.” As I pour a cup, she walks over and wraps her arms around me from behind, resting her head on my back.

“Thank you so much for visiting me, senpai. I really needed to see you again.”

“Any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you miss me?
> 
> Two months is the longest span I’ve gone without publishing a chapter so far, but I think you’ll find this chapter is a big one. At nearly 6,000 words long, it’s about a quarter as long as the _entire rest of the story_ up to this point. I thought about splitting it into two chapters, but one, I thought it worked best as a single unit, and two, I can’t go two months without a new chapter and only have a regular-length chapter to show for it!
> 
> The chapter still has two acts to it, I think. The first act is Yosuke, Kiyomi, and Yu all attending Rise’s concert. The major goals for that section were, one, to build Yosuke up a bit more. I don’t want him to be relegated to comic relief - he’s a good guy, who’s grown a lot since _Persona 4_ began. His relationship with Rise is particularly complex, I think. Two, I wanted to establish some conflict between Kiyomi and basically everyone else. As I mentioned before, she’s meant to act as a sort of foil to most of Yu’s other friends, and she plays that role in a painful way this chapter.
> 
> Act two focuses more closely on the relationship between Yu and Rise. I kind of alluded to Rise’s character arc very early on in this story - way back in chapter one, before I’d even thought about it in more than passing - but I wanted to delve a little deeper into things here. And, yes, Yu turned Rise down back in high school, but I thought it’d be super boring, character-wise, for her to still be interested. I think they work better as close platonic friends who care for and look out for one another. He moved on, she moved on, and they’re happy with the bond they still share. I think their relationship is very sweet in that way. Fans of Rise will also notice a ton of little references to her social link in _Persona 4_ this chapter. Hopefully some of them put a smile on your face.
> 
> Idol culture can be very strange and toxic. Idols are often held to absolutely impossible standards of innocence and purity, and even the accusation that they have sexual thoughts or romantic interests can be career-damaging. Rise’s arc, then, centers around the struggle between her desire to be true to herself, and the push from those around her to act like something she’s not. I feel it’s a natural progression of her arc in _P4_ \- at that time, she decided Risette was part of her, but she wanted everyone to know the other sides of her, too. But what if the people who love Risette don’t want to know her other sides? What if they want the fantasy?
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the Paramore track _Anklebiters_ , a song about learning to push aside what other people think about you and loving yourself for who you are. Anklebiters in the context of the song are those people who bring you down and try to guilt-trip you for being yourself - much like Risette’s rabid fanbase. I also really like that the song is by a female artist; it feels appropriate for a chapter on Rise.
> 
> Aside from that, please look forward to more _Memories of the City_ in the future. If you’d like to reach me, leave me a comment here at AO3, or send me an ask at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. Until next time!
> 
> \- Akinari


	11. Madness (Inch by Inch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we all just want to burn the world down.

**January 21, 2015**

“Academically, you’re doing fantastic. Your mid-term results look very good.” Fujimori-sensei, his head balding and his top shirt button loose, scans over the computer screen on his desk, perusing my school records for the last few months. I suppose I should introduce him - Fujimori-sensei acts as my guidance counselor here at school. Since I still don’t have a declared major, he tries to help me figure out what the hell I’m doing here.

“Thank you. I’ve been trying to keep up with my studies.” Mostly because it’s something to do when I’m at home by myself and need a distraction.

“You’ve more than kept up. Your grades are among the highest in the university.” Glad all those study sessions and rainy day beef bowls paid off. He keeps speaking, but my attention lingers on a family photo on his desk. His children distract me. The poor man, he has the ugliest children I’ve ever seen. They’re genuinely disturbing, his son’s thin eyes, the daughter’s overbite. Like little monsters. “Narukami, are you paying attention?”

“Ah, excuse me, sir.” I bite my tongue from saying something like, _I was admiring your family portrait_ , because I expect he would use it as an opportunity to tell me all about his beautiful children.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, adjusting his glasses. “To be perfectly honest, with your academic pedigree, I think you have a wide variety of options for potential career paths. Last time we spoke, however, it sounded like you weren’t quite sure where your interests lied. Have you given it any further thought?”

“Yes, absolutely,” I have given it much thought. The problem is that I have no real interests. There’s nothing that I want to do. I’m not even particularly interested in getting out of bed every morning. Does curling up in a ball in my bedroom and never moving again count as an interest? What’s the job market like for that? I say none of this, instead concluding, “but as you mentioned, I have a variety of talents. It’s very difficult for me to decide on one.”

“Well, let’s start with this, then. I see you’re enrolled in four courses this term. Do any of them stand out as particular favorites?”

“Psychology, I suppose.”

“And what do you most enjoy about psychology?” Honestly, the sole reason I say psychology is because Kiyomi is there, the only thing resembling a friend I have in any of my classes. The actual course doesn’t interest me at all. What good will all these lectures about Carl Jung ever do me?

“I guess I enjoy learning more about how the human mind works,” I bullshit. “It gives me a better understanding of other people.”

“You know, if you enjoy understanding and helping other people, you might think about becoming a counselor yourself.” Not a ludicrous idea, really. Half my time in high school was spent helping other people with their personal problems. I’m basically an expert in figuring out everybody’s issues but my own.

“It’s certainly something to consider.” Fujimori opens a desk drawer and flips through a collection of papers seemingly more vast than the drawer, before pulling out a packet that he tosses in my general direction. “Here’s some information about our psychology degree program. Course requirements, expectations, that sort of stuff. Maybe you can take a look at it on your own time.”

“Sure,” I concede. We talk a little bit longer about how great my grades are, and how I’m surely going to do something important with my life, until finally ending with farewells and best wishes. As I walk out of the office I just feel overwhelmed. I can’t think about the future right now. Even the present is just a haze to me. How am I supposed to figure out what I want to do with my life when I don’t even know what I’m doing right now? I know I don’t want to sit in an office all day and listen to other people’s problems. I don’t want to go to work eight hours a day, come home, sleep, and then do the same thing, day after day, week after week, year after year for the rest of my life. But what else is there? Is that just what being an adult is, and I’m acting like a child about it?

———

“You should apologize to Rise.”

“For what?” Kiyomi lights up her cigarette. We’re sitting once more at the smoking area on campus that we spoke at the day we met.

“You hurt her feelings the other night.”

“No, I didn’t.” She takes a long drag before continuing. “The truth did. I’m not going to apologize for telling the truth.”

“It’s not about what you said, it’s how you said it.”

“Look, if I offended her, I didn’t mean to. Sorry. But you’re blaming the wrong person.” She coughs lightly on her smoke, expelling nicotine breath. “Go ask the media to apologize to her, or the fans who badmouth her online. Or the entire idol business that makes their money on building girls like her up only to tear them down.”

“That’s a very tall order,” I respond, lighting my own cigarette.

“The whole society is fucked up, from top to bottom,” she argues. “Look at us, going through college. How much money are your parents dumping into this? How much time and effort are you putting into your courses? And for what, a slip of paper and maybe an office at some big company?” God, I agree, but don’t make me think about this right now. Counseling was bad enough.

“So what’s your solution? What, should we burn it all down?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” she mumbles. “Tear it all down and start anew. What would you change?”

“Like, if I could rebuild the world?”

“Yeah.” 

“No idea. No one could answer a question that big on the spot.” I inhale deep, considering it, but nothing immediately jumps out at me. “It sounds like you’ve thought about it, though. What would you change?” She taps her cigarette on an ashtray before snuffing it out long before it’s finished. The smoke blows into my face, getting into my eyes.

“That’s personal,” she deflects. Enigmatic as always.

“Why’d you ask me if you aren’t willing to share?”

“Just trying to know you a little better.”

“This is a two-way street. How can you expect me to get personal with you when you’ll barely tell me anything about yourself? You always get mysterious whenever I ask.” She leans back and closes her eyes for a few moments, finally reaching into her bag and pulling out that notebook I’ve seen her scrawling in. She jots something down and rips out the page, then hands me the scrap.

“What’s this?”

“My phone number and email address,” she answers, avoiding eye contact, “in case you want to talk to me outside of campus.”

“Will you actually tell me a bit about yourself if I message you?”

“No promises.” Still, it feels like an olive branch, so I take it and stash it away in my pocket. She stuffs her notebook back in her bag and stands up to leave, so I try to catch her as she’s walking away.

“Listen, I don’t mean to badger you. It sounds like you’ve gone through some hard times, and I understand if it’s difficult for you to get close to someone. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” She pauses mid-step for a moment, but doesn’t turn around to face me. After a while she responds.

“Thank you.” And with that, she continues walking.

———

Yosuke awaits me at the dorm room when I arrive, kicked back on the couch with the TV abuzz. I can’t help but notice he’s been home more often lately, which in truth I’ve got mixed feelings about. He waits for me to grab a drink from the fridge and sit down before attempting conversation.

“Hey man, how are you? You look a bit out of it.” Is it that obvious?

“Not great,” I start, chugging probably half a can of Mad Bull before finishing that thought. “But that’s nothing new.”

“What’s got you down?”

“Same old. Feeling lonely, not knowing what I’m doing with my life. Twenty-something college student problems.” He sits up and turns the TV volume down.

“You know, if you’re looking to get out of the dorm for a while, there’s a pretty sweet party happening this weekend at Kaneko’s place. You should come.” Gross. I know what those parties are like just from how Yosuke smells when he gets home from one.

“I don’t think I’d have fun.” To put it more nicely.

“You’ve never even been to one, how would you know whether you’d like it?”

“Just hearing about them from you is enough.”

“What, and me going isn’t a vote of confidence to you? It’s not like they’re doing hardcore drugs or something, it’s just booze and socializing. Come on, stop being so afraid of getting out a bit.” Not in the mood, Yosuke.

“Booze and socializing? Is that what you call it when you come home piss-drunk with three girls around your arms?” He recoils.

“What the hell, man? I’m just trying to help you out here, what was that for?”

“To tell you the truth, no, Yosuke, you going to a party is not a vote of confidence to me. It’s a warning sign.” I chug the rest of the Mad Bull.

“Wow. That’s pretty damn uncalled for, dude. Do you want to do this right now?”

“Do what?” He stands up and throws his hands in the air.

“Oh, I don’t know. Lash out at me for trying to actually be a fucking friend to the guy who used to make me feel like I had something worth clinging on to? Or judge me for trying to make myself feel like a man every now and then so I can forget how much of a loser I am? Or have the huge balls to get mad at me while all you do anymore is mope about how hard things are for you and hang out with your weird little creepy girlfriend, as if no one else has it as bad as you?” Hey, fuck you too, partner.

“I’ve had a shitty enough day as it is. I don’t need this right now.”

“Yeah? Me either. Don’t talk to me the rest of the night.” He puts on his headphones, storms out of the living room, and slams the door on his bedroom, leaving me alone with an empty can of soda and some kind of trivia game show. Some part of me feels like an utter ass for how I just acted - probably the correct part of me - but the rest of me is just too numb to care anymore. I get up and walk to the bathroom; I can faintly hear Yosuke crying in his bedroom, and for a brief moment I realize I’m a monster.

I wash my face in the bathroom to relieve some stress, all while looking in the mirror at someone I hardly recognize anymore. After patting myself dry, I head into my bedroom, lay down, and bury my head between two pillows. Shit. Is this just who I am now? Can I even deny anything Yosuke just said? What happened to the Yu from a few weeks ago that was going to get out of this rut? Why am I just digging myself ever deeper? A hum from my pocket interrupts my despair, a message from Chie.

_Whats going on? Yosuke says ur acting all weird? We’re worried about you…_

How do I even reply to that? “Sorry, love, I’m just having an emotional and mental breakdown from years of accumulated depression and abandonment issues, and I’m coping with it by lashing out at my best friend at a time when I probably need him more than ever. Please run away before I say something I’ll regret to you, too.” Of course, I don’t say any of this. I just scream quietly into my pillow and wish for the night to end.

As I put my phone back in my pocket, my fingers brush against a folded scrap of paper. I extract it from my pocket and notice it’s the page of Kiyomi’s notebook upon which she wrote her contact info. I unfold it; her handwriting’s cuter than I expected. Wait, did I see something written on the back? Yes, in that same handwriting:

“What am I afraid of?”

Though I’m sure these words were not directed at me, nor do I suspect I was ever intended to read them, they hit me square in the chest with the force of a steamroller. Of all the things that could’ve been written on the back of this page, why this? Once I recover from the blow I sit up on the edge of my bed, reading it over and over. “What am I afraid of?” Surely she meant to ask herself those words, but selfishly I imagine she wrote them for me. Paper in hand, I walk over to my desk and flatten the sheet against it, flipping on my desk light. My mind pores over the question as I click my pen against my cheek. Honestly, if I try to think about it objectively, there’s really only one answer that sticks out. So I click my pen one last time to ensure the point is exposed, and press the tip to the page to write a response.

In that instant, everything goes white.

———

The next thing I see is the night sky overhead, the stars staring down upon me, the moon new. The faint rustling of bamboo to either side of me tells me I’m in a forest, and beneath my feet is a stone path. While it should be a frigid January night, the breeze against my neck feels perfectly pleasant. I’d probably be a fool to think I’m still in Shibuya. Since I have no idea how I ended up here, I walk along the stone path, scanning for some indication as to where I am, when after turning a corner I come across a shrine - either a very freshly built one, or at least well-kept. I approach the door and creak it open, slowly.

The blackness of night consumes the room, making it too dark to discern most of its contents. The only thing I can make out is a human figure, sitting still in the middle of the room, cloaked in a hooded black robe. Ominous, but being the only other person I’ve found, I’ve little choice but to introduce myself.

“Hello?” The figure turns to face me, and through the glow of the moonlight I can make out the left half of the figure’s face. “… Kiyomi?” She springs to her feet and lunges at me, pushing me out of the doorway and back outside.

“Idiot! What are you doing here? How did you even get here?” She screams wildly at me, her hair unkempt, her bangs covering the right side of her face.

“You tell me. Where even is ‘here,’ anyway?” I reach my hand to her cheek to brush her hair out of her face, but she grabs my arm. I relent, and she responds.

“My notebook.” An answer that raises more questions.

“What do you mean, your notebook?”

“This place exists inside my notebook.” Normally that would sound absolutely ludicrous, but I am a man who’s made frequent trips inside a television. I’m in no position to doubt her.

“Okay, setting that aside, how did I end up here? I just tried writing on that scrap of it you gave me, and I know you must be able to write on it, you do it all the time.”

“Just writing’s not enough,” she begins, casting her one visible eye towards the sky. “Some part of you must long to come here.” How could I “long to come here” when I’m still not really clear where “here” is?

“This isn’t making a lot of sense.” She looks back at me, her robe rippling in the wind. After a moment she walks forward and takes a seat on one of the steps in front of the shrine. I take a seat next to her, and we gaze out upon the forest. Finally she speaks.

“Normally this world is as empty and white as the pages of a notebook,” she whispers, her whole manner softening. “It’s the hearts of the people who enter it that create its contents.” Like the dungeons of the TV world, perhaps? Yet this place seems far less sinister.

“Its contents?”

“If this world is a blank page, then your heart wields the pen. Whatever your heart desires, this place brings it to life.” When did she become so eloquent, anyway? Her language needs more swearing to sound like the Kiyomi I know.

“So, this shrine. Was it created by your heart?”

“Wouldn’t you like to fucking know?” Ah, there’s old Kiyomi. Her snark is answer enough. It snaps to me that this must be where she goes when she’s not on campus.

“I guess you spend a lot of time here.”

“Obviously. Why wouldn’t I rather be here than on the outside? All the hypocrites, all the boredom, all the bullshit, it doesn’t exist here.”

“By that logic, why do you ever leave?” She doesn’t answer. Instead she turns away, leaving me to stare at the back of her hood. After an uncomfortable moment she changes subject.

“You could stay here with me, you know.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a coward.” She turns to me, rage in that one eye of hers.

“A coward?” In her defense, I should probably clarify that statement.

“It’s a cowardly thing to do, hiding in here to escape your problems. No matter how difficult and shitty it is on the outside, we all have to deal with it. Running away doesn’t solve anything, it’s just averting your eyes from reality.”

“Tch,” she snorts. “What is reality, anyway? How is this place any less real than what’s on the outside?”

“I’ve lived all my life out there. Everyone I know, everything I love, it’s all outside.”

“Don’t you get it? If you want, all that could be in here, too.” She’s the one not getting it.

“It’s not the same.” Suddenly she pushes me in the chest, knocking me on my back. Out of nowhere my vision flashes white and I hear the sound of thunder, as if lightning struck the very spot on which I lie. As a matter of fact, I’m incredibly confident that’s literally what happened. When my vision returns to normal, I see a towering figure standing above me, shielding itself with a large blade as if trying to protect me from the strike. I recognize that tall, white trenchcoat instantly.

“… Izanagi-no-Okami?” So Personas can be summoned here, too? What the hell is this place? As Izanagi fades away, Kiyomi seems unphased, standing up and turning back towards the shrine. Before she walks away, she faces me and mutters under her breath.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“Gladly, but how?”

“If you want to leave, the world will let you leave.” Sure enough, even as she says that, my vision begins fading to white again, with only the ghost image of her back as she opens the shrine door lingering for a moment before it, too, fades away.

———

With a blink, I’m sitting again at my desk, gazing once again at that terrible piece of paper. Even my pen remains rested between my fingers. I drop it and look over at the clock, just striking a quarter past nine in the evening. So I was gone, what, an hour? I suppose time must pass while I’m in that place.

That’s two friendships I’ve managed to ruin tonight, but you know what? Forget Kiyomi. Seeing her like that, the way she lives, what she does - is that what I want to be? Does she really think I’m like her? Maybe, if I can admit it to myself, that really is how I’ve been acting lately. Maybe it’s my fault. And if so, despite how absolutely bizarre that experience just now was, it was a hell of a wake-up call.

I get on my feet, leave my bedroom, and stand outside Yosuke’s door. Knock knock.

“Fuck off,” he yells from inside.

“Yosuke, hear me out.”

“I told you not to talk to me the rest of the night.”

“I know but, please, listen.” He doesn’t respond, so I gather my thoughts, take a deep breath, and push forward. “I’ve been an asshole. I could make excuses, say I had a bad day or whatever, but there is no excuse for how I’ve been acting. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and I’m lucky to have you as a friend even after all these years. And you’re right, you’re absolutely right, I need to get out and I need to stop being so judgmental. I’m happy to go to that party with you this weekend. So please, please, forgive me. All this shit I’m going through… I can’t do it without you.”

I hear nothing from beyond the door for a few moments, the silence finally broken by the rattle and twist of the doorknob. Yosuke stands in the doorway and just looks straight into my eyes for a moment, until he steps forward and wraps his arms around me. The drip of his tears on my shoulder make it impossible for me to hold back tears, either. So we stand there for a while, hugging and crying like utter children, and yet feeling like it’s the first time we’ve truly seen each other in years.

Maybe I can still change that to just one friendship ruined tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a story in a serialized format the way I’ve been doing has its pros and cons. The upside is that it keeps you focused. You always have a goal, a destination to get to with your writing - the next chapter. And even before a story is totally done, you can get feedback and readers that help motivate you to keep writing. The downside is in planning. Once you’ve written something and published it, you are committed to it. If I wrote something three chapters ago that goes against something I’d like to do now, tough shit. I either write a way around it or come up with something different. I’ve gone through and made a few very minor edits to previous chapters - just typo fixes, word choices, small tweaks - but actually rewriting anything feels like it’d be cheating. It’d also be too much to ask for a reader who’s gotten this far to go back and reread a part because I changed it, haha.
> 
> So, with that in mind, this chapter is one, a hugely important one, and two, went through more substantial rewriting than you’ll probably ever know. When writing a chapter that has such a huge impact on the plot going forward, I have to be incredibly confident that I’m willing to commit to it. Believe it or not, early on, this was actually another Rise-centric chapter! All that stuff got scrapped, though, or at least pushed back until later…
> 
> One important aspect of _Persona 4_ that I wanted to carry over into _Memories of the City_ is the duality between the grounded, believable real world and the more fantastic setting of the TV world. Trying to find a natural way to incorporate that into this story took a ton of thought, especially since up to now it’s been entirely focused on the former. I didn’t want to retread the TV world itself for a couple of reasons. I felt the TV world’s story had been told, and I didn’t think the symbolism of the television really fit the story I want to tell.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from Passion Pit’s _The Reeling_ , a song about the struggle to escape from self-imposed despair. “Look at me, oh look at me, is this the way I’ll always be?” Ah, that’s the question, isn’t it, Yu?
> 
> Once again, please feel free to leave me comments here at AO3 if you want to reach me; nothing makes me happier than getting feedback on this story. And you can also reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com - send me an ask if you’d like! Until next time, thanks again for reading my weird little depressing _Persona 4_ story, and I hope you’ll read the next chapter, too. This thing is far from over. In the meantime, take care.
> 
> \- Akinari


	12. On Melancholy Hill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just because you're a Wild Card doesn't mean you're special.

**January 22, 2015**

“Why didn’t you reply to me last night?” Chie tries to keep her voice level, but her frustration with me shines through the cracks.

“I’m sorry. I had a lot on my mind last night, and I needed to be alone for a bit.” I know that answer isn’t good enough, but I struggle to think of a better one.

“That’s okay,” she sighs, her breath clipping her phone’s mic. “I understand you need to be alone sometimes, but… it’s not just last night, you know? The past few weeks, we’ve barely talked at all.”

“That’s not true, I—“ Only then does it hit me. Shit. How did I not notice until just now? “Maybe you’re right. I promise I’ve been meaning to, I’ve just been preoccupied lately.” The call goes silent. I feel the goosebumps rising on my arms. Finally her voice cuts through the dead air.

“I didn’t want to bring this up… well, to be honest, I’ve been kind of afraid to…”

“W-what is it?” Another awkward silence before she answers.

“Yosuke told me there’s a girl you’ve been hanging out with a lot.” Oh, _come on._ Of all things.

“There’s nothing going on, I swear to you. She’s just a friend I met on campus. Actually, I don’t even know if we’re even friends any more, we got into an argument last night. Please, please trust me on this.” I’m absolutely telling the truth, right?

“I want to believe you! And Yosuke told me he doesn’t think you’re doing anything either, but… you’ve been really weird, and you haven’t been talking to me, and Yosuke said she’s really cute… I mean, you never even told me about her! What am I supposed to think?”

“Why did Yosuke even tell you all that? He’s gotten you super worked up over nothing.”

“Don’t get mad at Yosuke! I should’ve heard all that stuff from you in the first place. You told me…” She’s starting to choke up a bit. “You told me you’d stop shutting me out. You promised. Why are you still doing this to me?” I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t even know the answer. There’s no intention, no deliberate effort behind it. I don’t want to shut her out, but it’s almost as if something subconscious overrides that, like my own mind works against me. But how can I possibly express that in a way she would understand?

“Please believe me. I want to talk to you, I want to hear your voice, I _need_ you, more than ever. I know I haven’t been myself lately, and I’m trying so hard to change that. So please, please, trust me. I love you.” She takes a breath and leaves me hanging for a lifetime, responding only the moment before I’m sure my heart will stop.

“I’m sorry, Yu-kun. I need some time to think about all this. I’ll talk to you later.” My phone beeps with the tone of an ended call. I slump back against my bed frame, noticing only now how dark it is in my room. The clock only just struck seven, but somehow I lack the energy to get up and turn on a light. Instead I stare downward at my phone, clutching it tightly, hoping that some call, some message will come in to lift me up. It never comes - just silence.

**January 23, 2015**

The smoking area on campus loses a lot of its appeal without Kiyomi here. She didn’t show up for class, either. How much am I responsible for that? Is she off, hiding in her strange notebook world? Somehow I feel like I let her down, like she expected something different from me. Maybe that’s for the best - maybe I don’t want to be the person she expected - but still, some part of me can’t help but worry. I mean, what if I _am_ the reason she didn’t show up today? Am I the only reason she came to school at all?

No, come on, I can’t blame that on myself. I’d only known her for a few weeks. We hung out a bit and went to a concert, but we still barely knew each other. How could she be so attached to me after so little? And even if she was, how is that my fault? Isn’t that weird of her? No, the bigger question is, aren’t I the one who’s weirdly attached? Why do _I_ care so much? But as I sit here, with the ashtray as my closest friend and my throat scratched by smoke, I realize I know the answer to that question: because she kept me from feeling alone. Sigh. I take a long drag and close my eyes, only to be startled by someone suddenly sitting next to me.

“Hey, partner!” Yosuke found me here, somehow. I exhale a cloud of smoke, sending Yosuke into a coughing fit. “Ugh, you need to quit that stuff. It’s not good for you.”

“I’m touched that you’re worried.” I’m not done, but for Yosuke’s sake I snuff the cigarette out. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” he struggles to begin between coughs, “I pass by here all the time between classes. That’s how I knew you and Kiyomi were hanging out. Speaking of which, I guess she’s not here today, huh?”

“Nope. Don’t think she wants to hang out anymore.”

“What happened, did you guys have a fight or something?” Should I tell him? If so, how much? If anyone would believe me about all the notebook-world stuff, it’d be Yosuke. But, shit, I have so many questions about that place, myself. Why does she even have that notebook? Where did it come from? Who the hell is she? All questions I couldn’t answer, much less explain to Yosuke. So I shrug it off.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“You know, I didn’t want to say anything, but I’m kinda glad. I think she was just bringing you down.” I’m inclined to agree. “Anyway, I’m done with classes for today. How about you?”

“Same, actually. I was just about to head home.”

“Hey, before that, why don’t we go hit the town tonight for a while? Maybe head out to Shinjuku?”

“Ah, I don’t know—“

“Yeah, yeah, Shinjuku’s a little busy, you’re more of a Daikanyama guy. But I know some cool places out there, and we could grab dinner while we’re out. What do you say?” My instinct is to say no, but my instinct hasn’t been doing a great job leading me in the right direction lately.

“Sure.”

———

“C’mon partner, pick a ball!” Yosuke brought me to a bowling alley out in Shinjuku, but the atmosphere is more like that of a club. The lights are dim and purple, with bright symbols like stars and snowflakes dancing around the room. Bass-heavy music pumps through the alley’s speakers. There’s even a disco ball overhead.

“What’s with this place?” I wonder aloud. Yosuke doesn’t even look up from tying his shoes.

“You’re from Shinjuku and you’ve never been here before? You’re missing out, man. Well, the really fun stuff doesn’t start till late night, but whatever.” He picks up his ball and pauses for a moment to take aim, before sending the ball hurling down the lane. I’m surprised how straight his trajectory is - until nearly the end of the lane, when it curves just slightly left, finally knocking down seven pins. “Aw, man.”

“Seven pins isn’t bad.”

“Yeah, but the ones left are all off to the side, it’s gonna be tricky to hit without going into the gutter.” He sighs and lines up another shot. One pin. “Oh well. Your turn.”

Having finally picked out a good ball, I put my drink down on the table by the score screen and walk cautiously up to the lane. I haven’t really gone bowling since I was a kid. Admittedly, I could play a pretty good game back then, but I’ve got to be terribly rusty now. Trying to channel my inner child, I focus on the motion of my wrist as I release the ball. Too much spin to the left - it goes into the gutter halfway down.

“Whoops, better luck next time,” Yosuke taunts. Once my ball comes back through the return machine, I line up another shot, and overcompensating for the left spin before, it veers a bit to the right. Four pins. Better than nothing, I guess. Yosuke heads up to the line and rolls for his next frame; eight and two, a spare. He fist-pumps excitedly. “Alright! You’re up. Don’t worry, I’ll consider the first frame a warmup. I know you haven’t played in a while.” Is he trying to goad me? So I grab my ball, focus on my follow-through, and — right into the gutter, again. “Come on, partner, I know you’ve got more in you than that.”

Oh, it’s on.

I undo the top button on my shirt collar and untuck to loosen up a bit, then grab my ball from the return machine. With a laser-focus, I carefully position myself so that my right arm should be dead center down the aisle, then concentrate on the weight and balance of the ball, before finally shooting it straight down the middle of the lane like a cannon ball. Ten pins - spare. Yosuke’s eyes widen in awe as I sit down and take a sip of my soda.

“Your turn.”

———

After I thoroughly demolish Yosuke in two games of bowling, we head to a karaoke bar. In hindsight, two guys going alone to a karaoke bar was rather sad. Mistakes were made. The details shall be spared and admitted to no one, including you. Once the sun starts crossing the horizon, we look to grab a bite to eat before heading home. Near the train station, there’s an incredibly cramped series of alleyways that Yosuke claims houses some quality food. The scent of grilling meat looms through the air.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been here either, dude,” he scoffs. “What are you, a tourist in your own city?”

“I guess so.” Even when I’d hang out with friends back when I lived here, this wasn’t exactly a hotspot for young teens. And it’s definitely too low-rent for my parents.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you fix that. C’mon!” We slip our way through the narrow streets, filled with countless little restaurants serving all kinds of food, before Yosuke settles us into a tiny yakitori shop. The only spot with two free seats next to each other is located behind two other patrons, who have to move to let us in. Yosuke motions to the cook, who stands over a crackling grill.

“Hey, I’d like a meatball skewer to start off. My friend’s never been here before, so get him the variety plate with sauce. Oh, and two waters. Thanks.” He turns to me. “By the way, you’re totally buying, right?”

“Do I have a choice?” I laugh. The cook hands Yosuke a single yakitori skewer, and gives me a plate with several different kinds. He begins gnawing on a meatball.

“You should bring Chie out here one day, the meat is awesome. Though she’s more of a beef fan than chicken, right?” No, please don’t remind me of Chie right now, I’m actually having a good day. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Yosuke notices my disdain. “Something wrong?”

“I’m pretty sure Chie’s mad at me.”

“What? Why?”

“Kiyomi,” I answer shortly as I chew on a chicken wing. After swallowing, I continue, “Chie thinks there might have been something going on, since I never said anything about her.”

“There wasn’t, right?”

“Of course not.”

“I believe you, dude,” he pats me on the back, “and I’ll back you up if you need me to. But I think the whole thing will blow over. She’s just worried about you.”

“Can we talk about it later?” I plead, trying to enjoy this meal without _feelings_ ruining it.

“Yeah, for sure,” he concedes, ordering another skewer. “Hey, so, when we get back, I’ve got some math homework I could use your help on. Just like, algebra. Haha, you did that stuff a long time ago, right?”

“Oh, yeah, I can definitely help you with that.” I’m three terms deep in calculus at this point.

“Sweet, all the hyperparabawhatever stuff is kinda blowing my mind. I don’t know when I’ll ever even use it.”

“You’re still undecided on your major?” I ask, starting on a bacon and leek skewer. (Eh, it’s alright, but I prefer the chicken.)

“Yeah. I’ve been having to see this guidance counselor, I think his name’s Fujimori?” That rings a bell.

“Wait, you’re working with Fujimori-sensei, too?”

“Aha, do we have the same counselor? Oh man, you’ve seen that photo he’s got on his desk, right? With his kids?”

“It haunts me in my dreams every night.”

“I know, right? Poor dude.” He gulps back his water, trying not to laugh and cough up his drink.

“That’s kinda sad,” I chuckle, “how we’ve been going to the same counselor this whole time and never even knew. I mean, we live in the same dorm.”

“Yeah, well,” he sighs, pausing to take a bite. “We don’t talk enough anymore, man. We should change that.” It occurs to me that I’ve probably spent more time hanging with Yosuke in the past month or two than the entire six-month period before that combined, and I wonder if that’s the result of a deliberate effort on his part.

“Definitely,” I agree.

———

As night falls, we hitch a train ride back to the dorm. A fog sets in upon the city, leaving a thin mist on the windows, transforming the passing lights of the city into vibrant streams of color. Yosuke stares out the window, headphones on, watching the flashes of life pass by. Meanwhile I stare at my phone, lost in thought, my thumbs resting on the screen until I determine what to write. Honestly, I much prefer phone calls to email. I never feel like my words come out right in text; I need my inflection to be heard, my tone to be felt. So each time I type a message to Chie, I backspace it out soon after, never confident that it will convey my meaning. Finally I just send her a request: “hey, can we talk?”

The train pushes onward, and even when we arrive at the platform near the dorm, I’ve yet to receive a response. As Yosuke and I walk home, he senses my discomfort and pulls out his phone. A few moments later my phone vibrates in my pocket with a message, yes, but from Yosuke, containing a single smiling poo emoji. I turn to him, perplexed, but he just laughs, and I can’t help but smile back.

We walk into the dorm, dark and too cold from both of us being out all day. I flip on the light and toss my backpack onto the couch. Yosuke takes a seat on the other side of the sofa and begins extracting books and papers from his own bag, spreading them out on the table. He stops me as I head to my bedroom.

“Hey, don’t forget, you were gonna help me with my math homework, right?”

“Yeah, for sure. I just need a minute.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he chimes in. I fall backwards on to my bed with legs dangling over the edge and pull my phone out of my pocket. Still nothing. Dammit. Getting no response stings me so much more painfully than hearing an “I don’t want to talk to you,” or a “give me some space for a while,” because it leaves room for my imagination to run wild. Is it just that she doesn’t want to talk to me? Or maybe she does, but she doesn’t know what to say? Or she’s just busy? Am I just being impatient? Is it wrong of me to think she might not get back to me, is it a sign that I don’t trust her? Or is her not getting back to me a sign that she doesn’t trust me?

Speaking of signs she doesn’t trust me, why would she ever think I would do anything to hurt her? Why is there doubt in her voice after I tell her the honest truth? What series of words, arranged in what order, must I speak to convince her? No matter how much my mind pours over the options, I never arrive at a conclusion. But that’s not fucking good enough! I have to fix this. God, I feel helpless. Useless. Useless, useless, useless, useless. Of all the times I’ve talked my way out of disasters, why can’t I think of anything now? Can I honestly do nothing but wait?

I know I shouldn’t bother her, yet I just cannot bear the crushing weight of each passing moment that I don’t hear back from her, every second adding to the load. I simply can’t. So against my better judgment, I call. _Ring_. Please, please, pick up. _Ring_. If I don’t hear your voice tonight, if I don’t know that everything will be fine… _Ring_. If you just talk to me, I know we can push through this. _Ring_. I know you worry so much about me, and I know, deep down, you’re terrified of losing me. _Ring_. But the truth is, I’m just as terrified of losing you. I don’t know what I would do without you, especially now, and I’d never intentionally do anything to push you away. I love you. _Ring_. Suddenly I hear a click on the line.

“Hwataaa! You’ve reached the voicemail of Chie Satonaka! I’m out beating up bad guys, so leave me a message, and once I’m done kicking some evil butt, I’ll get back to you!” No. No! I won’t settle for a voicemail. I hang up, wait just a minute to catch my breath, then redial. _Ring_. _Ring_.

“Hwataa! You’ve reached the voicemail of Ch—“ After only two rings? There’s only two reasons that could happen, neither good; either she turned her phone off, or she sent me to voicemail. So she _is_ avoiding me! Shit. In three and a half years, she’s never done that. Not once. Even when we’d have small arguments, she’d always hear me out. Why is she doing this to me? What the hell did I do? I don’t leave a voicemail, no, I just cancel the call and wish for all of this to end. There are no tears, no whimpers, just an eyes-wide-open stare at the ceiling and a shiver, not from cold, but fear.

The door creaks open. I lift myself upright and see Yosuke, textbook in hand, looking at me with worry.

“S-sorry,” I stutter. “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” But as always, he doesn’t take that for an answer. He’s stubborn like that. He walks over to my desk, sets the textbook down, lowers his headphones, and sits next to me on the bed. He sighs.

“Can I tell you something, partner?”

“What is it?” He lays back on my bed and stares up at the ceiling - I follow suit.

“I’m in the same boat as you.” Hard to believe.

“What do you mean?” He chuckles.

“What, you think it’s just you that’s still got your head stuck back in Inaba? Come on.” He grabs a pillow from the headrest and stuffs it beneath his neck. “Before I moved there, I wasn’t anybody, either.”

“Didn’t you have friends out here? There was that one guy you used to talk to… Ka… Katsuya? No, Katsuragi?”

“Haha, you remember that? Man, I haven’t talked to that guy in years. But nah, none of those guys were really friends, just kinda people I hung around with, I guess. You know what that’s like?” Terribly well. After I don’t answer, he continues. “Anyway, it wasn’t until I met… well, Saki-senpai, that I felt like I fit in anywhere. And then you showed up, and… yeah.” Is it honestly possible that he has some modicum of understanding of what I’m going through?

“You’ve got tons of people out here now, though. You’re always going out partying and whatnot.”

“Don’t give me that crap, dude. You… you saw my Shadow. You know what that’s really all about.” And suddenly I recall words from years ago.

_You put on a good show of being carefree and happy-go-lucky ‘cause you’re so terrified of being alone._

_The more the merrier, right? You’ve gotta be surrounded by people to block out the pain of isolation._

And just as suddenly, I feel like a more tremendous asshole than ever. After knowing him all these years, as well as I do, how did I never even notice? Have I really been so wrapped up in my own problems that it never snapped to me what Yosuke’s dealing with? He sits up and stretches, then hits me on the knee.

“So,” he begins slowly. “I’m about to say a few words that you aren’t ever going to hear me say again, and you better swear on your life not to tell anyone I said them, alright?”

“… Alright?”

“I know this sounds weird since we see each other all the time and all, but… I’ve missed you, dude.” He stands up, grabs his textbook from the desk, and starts walking out the door, pausing to turn to me before leaving. “Hey, this homework’s due like, first thing tomorrow. You coming?”

“Of course,” I confirm as I sit up. Before I go, I take one last glance at my phone. Nothing. Standing up, I decide to leave it laying on my bed as I leave my room, closing the door behind me. Whatever problems await me when I do finally hear back from her, they can wait. Tonight, tonight, I’m going to let myself forget all about them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading chapter twelve! Honestly, for whatever reason, I don’t particularly feel like discussing the chapter itself here - normally I try to provide some insight as to why things happen the way they do, or my thoughts on what characters are thinking, but in this case I’d like to just let things stand on their own. Well, other than to say, I feel terribly bad for Chie.
> 
> I’ve found, as I’m writing, that I spend a considerable amount of time contemplating the endgame of the story. You know, how I want things to wrap up, and what I want to say when it’s all done. Which is good to an extent. It’s great to plan ahead, because it gives you a roadmap of where things need to lead, but sometimes it’s a roadblock! I spend so much time thinking about things ten chapters from now that I lose sight of just reaching the end of the next one. (By the way, don’t interpret that as “there’s ten chapters left”, haha. I’m just throwing a number out there!)
> 
> In case this has gone unnoticed, I’d also like to point out that I try to do a little research whenever I write about Tokyo. To be honest, I’ve never been! I feel like a hack, trying to write about real-world locations I’ve never visited, but I try to put the effort in to make it feel as authentic as I can! As far back as chapter three, the coffee shop Yukiko and Yu visit was inspired by a real place, and I studied up on ryokan while trying to imagine the Amagi Inn in chapter seven, and the hotel Rise’s staying at in chapter ten is a real hotel to the point where I studied photographs of actual rooms to get a sense of where Rise and Yu sit and stood and laid down, haha. And that continues here. Man, looking at pictures of yakitori made me so hungry while writing this chapter…
> 
> The chapter title this time is from the Gorillaz song of the same name. I see it as a reflection of Yosuke and Yu’s friendship in this chapter - drifting around town, keeping each other company, even as they both long for something else. “You can’t get what you want, but you can get me.”
> 
> As always, feel free to comment or review here if you’d like to give feedback! I love hearing from you all. And you can also reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. The next chapter should be… well, not what you’re expecting. I’ll leave it at that! Till next time.
> 
> \- Akinari


	13. Through Sandstorms and Hazy Dawns, I Reached for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The chance of an average person living in the US being struck by lightning in a given year is estimated at 1 in 960,000."

**August 18, 2013**

The hot summer sun shines down upon Inaba with not a cloud in the sky to stop it - perfectly beautiful weather for what I hope to be an eventful day. Yosuke pushes open the front door of Junes with an eye roll.

"What," I ask, "aren't you so excited to be back?" He forces a laugh.

"Yeah, thrilled. Although I gotta admit, it is nice knowing I don't have to work here anymore." We walk to the elevator, and as Yosuke hits the up button, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and flip it open to find a message from Chie:

_Sry! Small emergency! Ill be there asap_

"What's that about?" Yosuke wonders, having read the message over my shoulder.

"Hey, what if that had been a private message?" I chide. Yosuke shrugs. I read the message again in an attempt to answer his question, but it’s pretty sparse on details, which really just makes it all the more concerning. "I'm not sure what's going on." I send her a message asking for more info as the elevator dings. Yosuke and I step in together, and he nudges me with his elbow as the door closes.

"So, what kind of ’private messages' does Chie send you, huh?"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but she's never sent me a picture in a nurse outfit." He recoils back.

"H-hey, what makes you think I'd be interested in that?" His flustered state and crimson face answer his own question. A moment later the elevator doors creak open upon the Junes rooftop, that blazing sun once again soaking us in its light. An old jingle sounds out from the speaker system. No matter how recently I’ve visited - and I was just here in April, helping Yosuke pack to move - every time I step foot onto this roof, it always feels like too long since I’ve been here. As we step out, a familiar face runs to greet us.

"Sensei! Yosuke!" Teddie, in full bear suit, lunges at Yosuke, hugging him tightly and nuzzling his giant fuzzy head in Yosuke's chest.

"Hey hey hey! Back off, dammit!" Yosuke finally pushes Teddie away, though it doesn't even faze the bear's excitement - he leaps for me, but I sidestep him, sending him tumbling face-down into the elevator behind us. Before he can get back up, I reach into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor, pulling my hand back out before the elevator closes. Faintly, I can hear the sound of “senseiiiiii!” from behind the doors as the elevator descends.

“Senpai, you’re here!” I turn back around at the sound of Rise’s voice to find her, Kanji, Yukiko, and Naoto waiting at a table a few feet away. Rise, wearing a long pink summer dress with her thick hair up in pigtails, smiles and waves for us to come over, so Yosuke and I head over and pull up some chairs.

“Sup, senpai? Ted giving you trouble?” Kanji asks. His hair today is back to its old slicked-back, blonde self - he seems rather indecisive about his styling.

“Nah, nothing we couldn’t handle,” Yosuke responds. “I’m sure he’ll find his way back up in a bit.”

“Didn’t he fall on his stomach?” Yukiko points out, having ditched her usual red cardigan for a purple blouse. “How’s he going to get up again in that costume? He’s like a turtle on its back.” She stifles a laughing fit imagining it.

“He’ll manage,” I assure her with faux confidence, as I honestly have no clue how he’ll do it, either.

“It’s good to see you again, senpai,” Naoto speaks with a rare smile, dressed for the summer in a short-sleeved oxford shirt, even the collar buttoned.

“Hey, Naoto-kun, your hair’s getting long,” Rise giggles. She tries to pet Naoto’s now-shoulder-length hair, but Naoto bats her hand away. “What do you think, Kanji-kun?”

“W-w-why do you think I give a shit?” Kanji shouts, blushing furiously. Naoto’s eyes dart between Rise and Kanji, confused, as Kanji blusters, “A-anyway! How you guys been? City life treatin’ you right?” Yosuke fields this one as I check for a response from Chie. Nothing yet.

“It’s been great,” he brags. “You smalltown folk wouldn’t understand how sweet the city boy life is. Parties, cute girls, night life - man, it’s the best. Right, Yu?” He nudges me, expecting me to play along.

“Y-yeah, sure. It’s so very exciting.” While Yosuke’s out having fun, I’m usually studying my ass off.

“I struggle to imagine Yu-senpai acting so recklessly,” Naoto observes keenly.

“No way, senpai’s definitely got a wild streak in him,” Rise argues, turning to me. “I remember that school trip, when we played King’s Game, senpai was so cool! I was so happy when you picked me to rest my head on your lap.” Her mouth spreads into a sly grin.

“Hang on,” Yukiko says, surprised. “I don’t remember that. I thought he picked me to hug him.”

“Both o’ ya were too drunk to remember a damn thing,” Kanji retorts. “He picked Yosuke-senpai and gave ‘im a piggy back ride.” Yosuke frowns at Kanji’s sadly accurate recollection.

“Thosedrinksstillweren’talcoholic,” I barely hear Naoto grumble under her breath. Yosuke snaps to something.

“Wait,” he glances at Yukiko and Rise, “did you both, like, drunk-fantasize that he picked you?” Both their faces ignite into a flaming red, leaving me deeply thankful Chie hasn’t arrived yet. On that note, Yukiko attempts desperately to change the subject.

“S-so, Narukami-kun! Wasn’t Chie supposed to arrive with you?”

“Yes, she was,” I reply, “but she said there was an emergency, so she’d come as soon as she could.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“No, I texted her to find out and she hasn’t responded,” I sigh. Yukiko sulks.

“I’ll try and text her too. Now I’m all worried.” As she pulls her phone out, a ding from the elevator heralds a return. Here he comes.

“That was beary rude, sensei,” Teddie cries, waddling over to the table. “It took everything I had just to get back up!”

“Oh, sorry,” I apologize half-heartedly. He dusts off his bear suit and pops the head off.

“Ah, it’s so nice outside,” he coos. “I feel all stuffy from being in that suit all day.”

“Why are you even wearing that thing today anyway? Aren’t you off work?” Yosuke looks at him, baffled at Teddie’s always questionable wardrobe decisions.

“But all the people here love me when I’m a bear. And your dad told me it’s good for him, too!”

“Oh yeah,” Yosuke admits, “apparently you’re bringing a lot of business to Junes. My dad said even the higher-ups at corporate are impressed.” Teddie does a little wriggly dance of joy before the sound of a ringing phone catches us all off guard. Yukiko and I both check our phones, but it’s mine that’s ringing. I flip it open and get immediately greeted by a panicked Chie.

“Yu-kun! He’s missing!” I can hear her panting, her breath crackling the speaker in my phone.

“Who’s missing? What’s going on?”

“Muku! I’ve looked everywhere, and I don’t know whether he ran away, or someone took him, or…” She sniffles loudly, and god, I wish I could see her face. “Please come over. Please.” I look around at everyone else, their gazes similarly fixed on me. After a pause I answer.

“Of course. I’ll head over there now.”

“Thank you so much.” I hear her choke back tears once more as I close my phone and turn to the group.

“Muku’s gone missing,” I inform them.

“Who what?” Kanji furls his brow.

“Chie’s dog,” Yukiko answers, her usually-calm demeanor visibly shaken. She hastens to stand up. “If you’re going, I’ll go with you.”

“Hey, slow down,” Rise interjects. “We’re all gonna go help her out together, right, senpai?” She turns and smiles brightly at me, reminding me for what surely won’t be the last time what an incredibly lucky bastard I am to have the friends I do.

———

**February 8, 2015**

“Yu, dude, you with me?” Yosuke’s voice startles me from my daydream. Er, is it still a daydream if the moon is out? I must have nodded off, staring out the window of his car at the neon signs and pedestrian crowds of Shibuya Crossing as we inch forward through the excruciatingly slow flow of traffic.

“Y-yeah, sorry. What’s up?” I mumble.

“Just making sure you’re alive. You had way too much to drink back there.” He flips his turn signal. “I thought you didn’t even like drinking.”

“I don’t,” I sigh, the scent of alcohol on my own breath hitting my nostrils and making me snort involuntarily with disgust. Honestly, I’d forgotten we were at his friend’s party. Tonight’s already a blur and it’s not even over yet. I turn to him and ask, “What happened? What time is it?”

“It’s one in the morning, and what do you mean, ‘what happened?’ I should be asking that question! Before I pulled you away, you were hitting on some girl and telling her you were the king. Not like, _a_ king, but _the_ king. Come on, what would Chie say if she saw that?”

“I’d ask her, but she still isn’t returning my calls,” I grumble bitterly.

“Is that what this is about?”

“No. Well, kinda.” I scratch my hair and try to sit upright, a simple task which for some reason is proving immensely difficult. My head’s screaming in pain. “What is up with her, anyway? She tells me she wants to hear from me more, then she won’t talk to me?”

“I never thought _you_ would be asking _me_ for girl advice,” he laughs. “I dunno, dude. She’s probably pissed at you, and she doesn’t feel like talking to you yet.”

“It’s been over two weeks.”

“Well, in my little experience, if you keep trying to text her and stuff, that’ll just piss her off more.”

“But I’m her boyfriend.”

“You’re also drunk,” he points out. “Look, let’s get you home. We should probably talk about this after you’ve gotten some sleep.”

“Yeah, sure,” I slur, resting my aching head against the window pane again.

———

**August 18, 2013**

“When was the last time you saw him?” Naoto has gone directly into detective mode, searching Chie’s living room for any evidence of where Muku may have gone. Chie, arm locked with mine, wipes her tears away on my shoulder, leaving a wet spot on my shirt.

“Just this morning,” she sobs. I brush her short, messy hair out of her eyes. “I filled his food bowl and watched him eat, right there.” Chie points to a pair of bowls near the door containing dog food and water. Naoto walks over to inspect the scene.

“It must have happened shortly after that,” Naoto concludes.

“What makes you say that?” Yukiko questions.

“The food bowl is still nearly full.” Naoto pulls out her phone and takes a photograph of the bowls before turning to Chie. “How long ago did you feed him?”

“About two hours ago, I think.”

“What happened between then and the time you noticed he was missing?” Naoto pulls a notepad from her breast pocket and readies her pen.

“Um, well… I went and showered, and got dressed, and talked with Yu-kun on the phone…” Chie clutches my arm ever more tightly. “I think that’s it. Oh! There was a package delivery, too, but I was in the shower when it came. The delivery person left it at the door, so I picked it up after I noticed Muku was missing.”

“The hell are we doing here, anyway?” Kanji yells from the futon on the other side of the room. “The dog ain’t here, we should be outside lookin’ for him!” I’m starting to feel the same.

“In due time,” Naoto attempts to calm him down while scribbling in the pad. “We will have a much better chance of success if we have an idea of where to look.”

“Oh, I wish I could summon Kanzeon here,” Rise laments. “I could find him right away.”

“My nose isn’t being very useful here, either,” Teddie frowns, drooping over.

“Chie-senpai,” Naoto turns back to Chie, “for Muku to escape, there must have been a way for him to leave the house. Did you open the door at any time?” Chie shuffles uncomfortably.

“Actually, it was really hot in here this morning, so I did leave the back door open so it would cool off… b-but Muku wouldn’t just run off like that! I leave the back door open all the time! There’s a fence in the backyard, so it’s always been safe for him to play back there.”

“He couldn’t have jumped over the fence?” Naoto taps her pen against the pad.

“Muku’s a pretty big dog,” Yukiko chimes in. “I doubt he could jump high enough.” Yosuke overhears this and walks out the back door, so I call out to him.

“Where are you going?”

“Just a sec,” he shouts. The whole group looks out the back door expectantly till we hear him yell back, “I found your problem!” So we all head outside and find Yosuke crouched down in front of a section of the fence surrounding the house. “Check this out.” He pushes on a loose section of the metal wire fence near the ground, which bends forward to create an opening. Naoto pockets her notepad, runs over, and takes a look herself.

“Chie-senpai, Yukiko said Muku was a large dog. Does this look big enough for Muku to fit through?” Naoto pushes open the fence and waits for an answer from Chie, but Chie just buries her head in my chest and starts crying. As I hug her and stroke her hair, unsure of what to say to comfort her, she chokes out a muffled answer.

“… Yes, it does.”

“This is good,” I try to persuade her. “Now we have a place to start. We’re going to find him. Don’t worry.” She just keeps sobbing into my shirt, staining it with salty tears. Yukiko walks over and joins the hug as Kanji raises the obvious question.

“So, what, we might have an idea where the mutt went. But Chie-senpai said he ain’t the type of dog to just run off, right? So why the hell did he come running this way?” Naoto pulls what looks like brown hair off the bottom edge of the fence, holding it to her eye for inspection.

“We don’t just have an idea. This is dog fur. He definitely escaped through the fence. Figuring out why comes later, our first priority should be finding him.” Naoto makes eye contact with me, and I nod in agreement. I don’t care why the dog is missing - all I care about is that he _is_ missing, and that it’s tearing Chie apart, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to put the joy back in her eyes.

———

**February 8, 2015**

Shit, my head’s killing me. Not a great way to feel as soon as I wake up. I try to open my eyelids for just a moment, but the sunlight peeking in through my bedroom window pierces my skull and just makes the headache worse. So, keeping my eyes pointed downward and only half-open, I sit up on the edge of my bed. What happened last night, anyway? I don’t remember a thing. Maybe if I can get rid of this damn headache it’ll come back to me. I get up and head to the bathroom to hunt for the ibuprofen, and as soon as I open my bedroom door, Yosuke greets me from the couch.

“About time you woke up, partner, it’s already eleven o’clock.” Man, if I woke up later than Yosuke, I must have done something wrong.

“Morning,” I grumble whilst stumbling into the bathroom.

“If you’re looking for the Eve A, I’ve got it in here,” he calls. So I change course and head for the couch, dropping like a stone on the seat next to Yosuke. He hands me the box of ibuprofen, so I open it and pull out a sheet of tablets, popping two of them out - and only then do I realize I need water to wash them down. Now that I’m already sitting, getting back up feels like it would take Herculean effort. Thankfully Yosuke gets up and heads to the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and bringing it over to me. I quickly take it from him and down both pills.

“You’re welcome,” he says with just enough sarcasm to make me feel guilty.

“Honestly, you have been a hero to me lately, you know that?” I admit. He looks away just a moment too late - I swear I saw him blush.

“Anyway,” he segues, “I know you just woke up, so it might be early to spring this on you, but I figure I should tell you… I talked to Chie last night.” What? Really?

“You did?” I’m sure I’m shaking with anxiety. “What did she say?”

“She said she’d call you this evening, and to please - and these are her words - please don’t call her until she calls you.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” My mind runs through all the possibilities of what could be waiting for me when I get that call, and combined with my existing headache, my head feels ready to burst. ‘Don’t call her until she calls you?’ What is that supposed to mean? Yosuke pats me on the back.

“Whatever happens, you’ll be fine.” I wish I could be so sure.

“I need to go lay down,” I tell him, attempting to stand up to head back to my bedroom. “My head hurts like hell, and I was having such a nice dream.”

“No problem. Go sleep that hangover off, dude.” Wait, what?

“I’m hung over? That’s what this is?”

“Wow. You really don’t remember anything, do you?”

———

**August 18, 2013**

Behind Chie’s house lies a small wood; it is into here, we suspect, Muku has escaped. We’ve all split up into groups to look for him - Chie and Yukiko, Kanji and Naoto, Rise and Teddie, and Yosuke and me. So far all we’ve managed to do is run into each other.

“Muku! Mukuuu! Ugh, it’s no use,” Yosuke pants after we’ve been wandering for over half an hour. “For all I know we’re just going in circles. All I see is these damn trees.” My tiring legs agree. “I say we head back to Chie’s place and regroup.”

“Yeah, but the longer we wait, the less likely we are to find him.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but, I mean, he’s been missing for hours already. Who knows how far gone he is by now?” I wish he hadn’t said that, mainly because he’s right. But I can't give up trying. Not with how upset Chie is about it. Still, I concede. With a groan I pull out my phone and text everyone to meet up back at Chie's.

———

"Dammit!" Kanji leans against the back wall of the house and slams his fist against it. "I don't know, Chie-senpai, I don't think he's back there." Yukiko runs to shush him as Chie's expression becomes even more downtrodden.

"It's starting to get dark, too," Rise observes, casting her gaze up at the increasingly grey sky.

"Wait a sec," Yosuke interrupts, "isn't it, like, noon?"

"11:42 AM," Naoto checks her watch. "It's not getting dark. It's about to rain."

"Seriously?" Rise pouts. "The weather lady didn't say it was going to rain, and it was so sunny earlier." Her doubt vanishes from her face the moment a raindrop hits her hair. The next moment, I feel a drop hit my hair, too.

“Crap,” Yosuke mutters to unanimous agreement, covering his head with his hands as we all retreat inside. It doesn’t take long for the light drizzle to turn into a thunderstorm, which, really, is just what we needed. More difficulty in finding this dog. We all take a seat around the table on the floor of the living room, and as the pattering rain pelts the windows, and as the booming thunder grows ever nearer, Yukiko snaps. She buries her head in her arms on the table, and at first I think she’s finally lost it and started laughing out of sheer madness, but I quickly realize she’s crying.

“Yuki-chan?” Teddie puts his hand on her back, and she’s too distraught to push it away. “What’s wrong, Yuki-chan? Do you need a bear hug?”

“Muku,” she whimpers. “I can’t believe he’s gone. Ever since I was a little girl, he…”

“Huh?” Teddie asks curiously. “Isn’t he Chie-chan’s dog?”

“It’s a long story,” I tell him, only piquing his interest more. The lightning cracks outside. Suddenly Chie stands straight up, her facial expression totally different from before. She looks at Yukiko with that fierce determination in her eyes, that stubborn fury I fell in love with.

“He’s not gone, Yukiko,” she declares, fists clinched. “I don’t care what it takes. I’m gonna go back out there and I’m not coming back until I find him.” She pivots and begins to storm back outside with a powerful stride.

“Wait up,” I plead, standing up to follow her. She continues to march outside and is just a step out the door when the crackle of lightning stops her mid-step. This strike was close - incredibly close. A moment later I can see smoke rising from above the woods behind the house.

“Holy shit,” Kanji yells, “did the lightning just hit a tree back there?” Just moments later, faintly, distantly, we can hear a pitiful _awoooo_ coming from inside the woods.

“MUKU!” Chie screams, running to the wire fence and grasping at it desperately.

“Chie-senpai, you can’t go back there now!” Naoto yells, “If one tree caught fire, it could spread to the whole forest! It’s too dangerous! I’ll call the fire department!”

“What do you want me to do,” Chie sputters back, “leave him there?! I can’t do that!” And this is my cue. Before anyone has time to stop me, I run to the opening in the fence and slip underneath. I’m already charging into the woods when I hear Chie behind me.

“Yu-kun! What are you doing?!” But there’s no time to reply. I head straight into the woods, the smoke coming from within acting as my compass. Even as the rain drips into my eyes, I make my way through the trees. My feet crumple the leaves and leave imprints in the soft ground beneath them with each step until finally I arrive at the tree that was struck by the storm. Flames have engulfed the whole tree, and some of the branches have begun breaking off. Underneath one such branch - that didn’t catch fire itself, thankfully - lies Muku, trapped beneath its weight and whimpering pathetically. Thank god he’s still alive.

“C’mon, boy,” I beckon, trying to comfort him as I lift the branch off his back. But even after I remove the branch, Muku doesn’t budge. The branch must’ve hurt his back. No choice then, I’ll have to carry him. Yukiko told the truth when she said he was a big dog, so I scoop him up and hoist him, bridal-style. As I pick him up I swear I spot a silhouette of someone else in the woods, two or three trees away. I can’t make out details; they look a bit shorter than me, I think. A girl? The hell are they doing in here?

“Hey! You shouldn’t be back here!” I shout, and whoever they are, they run off. The snapping sound of a branch reminds me I should probably do the same; the flames are starting to spread to the other trees, even despite the rain. The lightning cracks threateningly once more across the sky. So I start heading back the way I came, albeit slowed considerably by having to carry this giant dog with me. But it’s fine. The look on Chie’s face when I make it back with Muku will be worth it. That’s all I care about right now.

Except for the tree branch that just fell on my leg.

It trips me, sending me falling on my stomach into the grass and leaves. I barely manage to hang onto Muku, who I’m now holding out in front of me. Shit, shit, shit. I slide my hands out from underneath him and try to dislodge the tree branch pinning my right leg down, but it won’t budge. Looking at it, one part of the branch actually fell hard enough to pierce the soft, wet upper layer of the soil, and now it’s lodged in the hard earth beneath. And of course, it’s just out of reach. Dammit! The fire is still a ways back, but I don’t have a lot of time before it gets here. Suddenly I hear footsteps from around the corner, rustling the grass beneath each hastening step, and then I see Chie standing before me.

“Yu-kun! Muku!” she gasps, rushing over to my side. “You idiot! You absolute idiot!”

“Nice to see you too,” I greet her. She rolls her eyes and finds where the tree branch is stuck in the ground, managing to pry it out from the dirt. With my leg free I pick Muku back up, and Chie and I rush back through the woods, not once turning to look behind us, no matter how much the crackling fire and thudding branches tempt us. A few minutes later we finally clear the trees and make it back to Chie’s house, where the rest of the team awaits us, staring out Chie’s window.

We slip back under the fence and I carry Muku inside away from the rain, setting him near his food bowl so he can eat and drink without having to move too much. Looking down, my clothes are dripping wet and absolutely covered in leaves, dirt, and grass stains. Definitely going to need to go back to Dojima’s and change if we’re all going to hang out today. Despite all that, as I stand back up, Chie runs up and hugs me as tightly as she ever has. After a moment she reaches her hands up and clasps my head between them before closing her eyes and kissing me, long and deep. I may or may not have blushed. When she lets go, she looks me straight in the eye with a face somehow both joyful and angry.

“You could have died, you idiot.”

“But I didn’t, did I?” She kicks me gently in the shin and walks over to Yukiko, and the two of them cry for a moment over each other’s shoulder as they hug. A few minutes later we hear the sirens of a fire truck outside, and we all gather to watch out the window as the firefighters rush to extinguish the growing flames in the woods.

“Shit,” Kanji begins, “what are the odds that lightning would strike the woods right where that dog was hiding? That’s crazy.”

“Astronomically small,” Naoto answers. “It was an incredible stroke of luck that the lightning led Narukami-senpai right to Muku.” Naoto probably doesn’t believe in such things, but I would more closely describe it as a miracle. Lightning striking the tree right where we needed to go, and pinning Muku down under a tree branch that isn’t burning, all without seriously injuring or even killing him? That’s not luck. That’s some benevolent god looking out for us.

That’s a miracle.

———

**February 8, 2015**

Even after another six hours of sleep, my head’s still killing me. And it’s eight o’clock now- how late in the evening does she plan to call, exactly? It’s not like I can do anything else to pass the time. Nothing could possibly hope to hold my attention when all I can think about is the splitting pain in my skull and the crippling anxiety of what awaits me when I answer the phone.

So I just pace back and forth in my room, jumping occasionally at the sound of a vibrating phone only to realize I’ve purely imagined it. Can anxiety cause hallucinations? Apparently so. Still, as I pace, my eyes keep glancing over at the phone, hoping, longing for any sign of a phone call. But after twenty more minutes of this, nothing. So I sit down, and I take a deep breath, and I try to calm my nerves. Nothing good ever happened in a relationship when one of the parties is a nervous wreck. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Nope, not working. So I stand up, and I start pacing again, and of course, that’s the moment the phone rings.

I just stare at my phone for a while. “Chie Satonaka,” it reads across the top of the screen. Her contact picture fills the rest - it’s the first photo she ever texted me, not long after I first met her, featuring her smiling brightly as she wraps her arms around her big, cuddly dog. In all these years I’ve never changed it. And at the bottom, a button to answer the call. And at first I hesitate. I’ve no idea what awaits me when I pick up, other than I know she’s not happy with me. But I also know running away won’t make anything better, quite the opposite. The only real choice I have is to pick up. And so I do. I pick up the phone, and I slide my finger across the screen to answer the call. And I speak, softly, slowly, into the microphone:

“Hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I had some fun with this one?
> 
> My original idea for the chapter was that I wanted a flashback story to build more on Yu and Chie’s relationship, which also presented a wonderful opportunity to tell a story that’s a bit more in the style of the original game. This has the first scenes I’ve written so far for the story that actually have the whole Investigation Team together! In particular, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get Naoto in here because she’s only been mentioned in passing up to now, so it was great to let her put her detective cap on for a bit. During the events of the main story, she’s… off… well, you’ll see eventually. (Shh.) And the first scene on the Junes roof was tremendous fun to come up with - because of the nature of the main story, the tone can get a little depressing, so writing some straight-up comedy scenes was a great change of pace.
> 
> My idea of Chie is that she’s someone who, yes, suffers from some difficult insecurities: low self-esteem, body image issues, a clingy need for other people’s approval. She doesn’t consider herself attractive or smart, and she desperately needs the attention of people like Yukiko and Yu because she deems them as “better” than her. And if they can appreciate her or even depend on her, that makes her feel better about herself. But at the same time, she is fiercely protective of the people she cares about, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. I tried to illustrate that strength in this chapter in various ways. In the flashback, I hope it shows through in her determination after seeing Yukiko crying over Muku, and in her rescue of Yu after he gets trapped in the woods. And in the present, I hope it comes across in her refusal to put up with Yu pushing her away. In this chapter, she has total control over their relationship.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from Ally Kerr’s _The Sore Feet Song,_ which some might recognize as the opening to the original season of Mushishi. Please look forward to the next chapter of the story, which hopefully should come next month. Incidentally, next month will also mark one year since I started writing this! I don’t know that I’ve ever managed to consistently work on one project for a hobby for such a consecutively long length of time… with a full-time job, it’s not easy. In any case, you can always reach me here, or at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com, and I’ll see you all next chapter!
> 
> \- Akinari


	14. Wish You Were Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let everything vanish into the sweet fog of illusion.

**February 14, 2015**

“Valentine’s Day is just a scam anyway,” Yosuke spits through a half-chewed truffle. “It’s all about making money for candy companies. Girls buy chocolates for their boyfriends, and us single dudes buy chocolate for ourselves so we can eat away our loneliness.” He tosses me a box of chocolates.

“If you know it’s a scam, why did you buy so much chocolate?” I ask.

“Look,” he begins, pausing to swallow, “just because I know it’s a scam doesn’t mean chocolate isn’t delicious.” Fair enough. I unwrap my box and lift the lid, tossing the plastic into the trash bin by our bench. Classes are over for the day, but I suspect neither Yosuke nor I want to go home. There’s nothing and no one waiting for us there, so instead we sit on a bench at the outdoor mall near campus beneath the fittingly grey sky, pretending the other shoppers passing by are a substitute for actual company.

I look down at the chocolate. Just looking at it is depressing, especially knowing it’s from Yosuke. The sight of it actually decreases my appetite. So I put the lid back on.

“I don’t know, I’m not hungry right now.”

“Suit yourself,” he smiles, popping another chocolate in his mouth.

———

**February 8, 2015**

I’ve no idea what awaits me when I pick up, other than I know she’s not happy with me. But I also know running away won’t make anything better, quite the opposite. The only real choice I have is to pick up. And so I do. I pick up the phone, and I slide my finger across the screen to answer the call. And I speak, softly, slowly, into the microphone:

“Hello?”

“Hi, Narukami-kun.” Are we on a last name basis now?

“I’ve been trying to call you for weeks.”

“Maybe you should’ve taken the fact that I wasn’t answering as a sign,” she groans. “I told you last time we spoke I needed some time to think about things. And then you just call me and leave me voicemails anyway!”

“Listen, I swear I told you the truth. Nothing happened between me and Kiyomi. We were just friends.”

“That’s not even what this is about!” Her voice sounds rougher, older than I remember. She takes a breath and sighs, “I believe you. Okay, maybe I felt a little jealous, but I don’t think you did anything. But that’s not the point.”

‘Then what is the point?”

“That you’re still being weird! I…” She trails off, the silence hanging in the air like a ghost, until she breaks it. “I didn’t want to do this, Narukami-kun, but I can’t keep this up anymore. I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” My heart feels prepared to shatter.

“You’ve changed. I don’t know what happened, but you’ve changed. I know you’ve been kind of out of it lately, and I’ve tried to be there for you, but you just keep shutting me out. I can’t keep fighting for this, Narukami-kun. I’m not sure you even care anymore.” No. Please, no.

“Of course I care! I know I haven’t been myself, and I swear to you I’m working—“

“Yeah, you care _now,_ ” she cuts me off, “but if I give you another chance, will anything actually change? You keep saying you’re going to stop being distant, you keep saying you’re trying to change, but you aren’t doing any of it! You’re… you’re not the Yu-kun I knew anymore.”

I can barely keep my grip on the phone; my hands quake uncontrollably. This can’t be happening. Not now, of all times. “Please, Chie, I lo—“

“I’m sorry, Narukami-kun. Goodbye.”

The call disconnects - that’s it? That’s how it ends? I drop the phone on my bed and lay back, staring absently up at the ceiling. I know I should feel upset about this, that I should cry, that I should scream and despair. But I don’t. Perhaps it just hasn’t struck me yet that she broke up with me; perhaps the full impact of that hasn’t sunk in. But I don’t think that’s entirely it, either. I think I’ve known this was coming for a while. Some part of me expected and prepared for it. So this doesn’t feel like a shock; I’m sure it will hurt considerably later, but right now, it just strikes me as the inevitable conclusion of something that was always destined to be transient.

———

**February 14, 2015**

Yosuke and I stroll down the walkways of the mall, filled with shoppers trying to get their significant others last-minute gifts. As we walk past each storefront, I catch a glimpse of my own reflection in the glass windows - my hair shaggy, my face tired, my eyes baggy. Is this really how I look now? Just as I’m about to turn my head away to face elsewhere, we pass an empty alleyway between two buildings, and something catches my eye. I stop and stare at a shining, elaborately-decorated blue doorway at the end of the alley. Was it always there? It couldn’t have been. Yosuke notices me stop.

“What’s up?” he wonders. Right, he can’t see the door.

“I’ve gotta do something real quick, I’ll meet up with you in a few minutes.”

“Oh… kay?” 

I walk to the doorway, and as I near the door, a key appears in my hand. So I jam the key into the door and open it, and my vision fades to white. The next moment, I find myself sitting once more in the backseat of the Velvet Room, and once more I can’t see a thing through all this fog. So I put on the glasses conveniently seated in my lap, and sitting across from me are Igor and Margaret, as always.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room,” Igor greets me. “Well now, we weren’t expecting to see you again so soon. Might I ask what brings you here?” Weren’t expecting me, my ass. They must have known I wanted to come, or that door wouldn’t have been there.

“You’re the ones who told me about Social Links, weren’t you? You’re the ones that said I’d forged bonds that could never be broken.”

“Quite right,” Igor agrees.

“You lied.”

“I did no such thing,” he insists, his toothy grin as wide as ever. I just want to punch his stupid, huge nose.

“Then what the hell is going on?” I scream. “How do you explain what’s happening with me and Chie?”

“Your bond with the Chariot arcana is still at maximum,” Margaret butts in. What? How?

“No way,” I sputter.

“Your belief in that fact doesn’t matter,” she shakes her head, “it’s true regardless.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“Surely you know we cannot answer such a question.”

Of course not. Always cryptic, always vague, these Velvet Room people. I can tell I’m not going to get any more out of them, so I leave the Velvet Room furiously and return to the alleyway, where Yosuke stands, gazing at me uncomfortably.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why were you spaced out and staring at the wall?” he asks back. “It was just like when you used to go to that Velvet Room place back in the TV world.”

“That’s what I was doing,” I admit.

“Whoa, really? What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“No,” I deflect. “Everything’s fine.” His face suggests doubt, but he moves on.

“Well, anyway,” he changes course, “before we go home, we should probably grab a bite to eat. If you don’t mind splurging a bit, there’s a steakhouse nearby… oh, sorry.” He frowns. “I forgot steak is probably a sore subject for you right now.” My best response to that is a blank stare.

———

“So how are you feeling, really?” Yosuke turns and asks as we ride the train back to the dorm.

“It’s the first Valentine’s Day in three years that I’ve been single for,” I answer simply. That should say all he needs to know. He scratches the back of his head.

“Don’t let it get you down, man. When we get back to the dorm, you and I are gonna bust out the booze, chow down on some chocolate, and play games all night long until our fingers bleed.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” That was probably rude of me. “I really appreciate it, Yosuke, but I think I just want to be alone tonight.”

“No you don’t,” he responds, “but I get it.”

He’s right. I don’t want to be alone, I want to be with Chie, but that’s not happening. And in her absence, I’ll just wallow in self-pity in my bedroom as I have most nights for the past year or two.

When we get to the dorm, I head straight to my bedroom and shut the door. I set my phone down on my desk, its screen lit up with the date and time - 7:24 PM, 14 February 2015. This time a year ago, Chie had come to the dorm to visit. She and I were probably still wandering the streets, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. Before the night ended, I treated her to dinner at some expensive restaurant, and then we came back to the dorm and spent a long time together here in my bedroom. Sigh. As I set the phone down, I notice something else still resting on my desk - that scrap of paper Kiyomi gave me a few weeks ago, her phone number and email address written on the front. Why haven’t I thrown it out yet? Actually, perhaps it’s better I didn’t - if something like that ended up in the wrong hands…

Ugh, this is miserable. Am I seriously just going to spend the night alone in my room, again? Is this honestly what I want to do with my time? No, I refuse. I walk back out into the living room, where Yosuke sits watching TV and stuffing chocolate into his mouth. He tilts his head back towards me.

“What’s up?”

“I changed my mind,” I say. “Let’s do something.”

———

Beer cans and chocolate wrappers litter the table in front of the sofa as Yosuke and I mash the buttons on our game controllers.

“No, no, nonono—“

_K.O.!_

“Aw, come on,” Yosuke cries after losing his third fight in a row in Eternal Punishment Arena. “This is bullcrap,” he rubs his tired eyes, “Jun just can’t match Tatsuya. Tatsuya’s got too much attack power.”

“Jun’s better at defense. Don’t be a sore loser,” I goad, taking another chug of beer. He puts his controller down and leans back on the couch with a yawn, stretching his arms out. He wraps one of them around my shoulders.

“Listen man,” he slurs, having clearly drank a few too many, “don’t feel bad about Chie.” He hiccups. “She’s stupid for leaving you.”

“I don’t know,” I reply. “We’d been growing apart for a while there. I saw it coming.”

“No, dude, I’m telling you,” he stops to burp and poke his free index finger at my chest, “you were always too good for her anyway. I know you’ve been all weird and sad and stuff lately, but she’s gotta stick with you through that kinda crap.”

“Don’t say that about her. You know she’s got self-esteem problems.”

“Ish true,” he pushes back, his voice increasingly harder to understand. “Anyway, don’t worrybout it. ’s long as I’m here, you always got someone who cares aboutya.” He lays his head on my shoulder. “As long… as…” He trails off before breaking into a snore. Yup, he’s passed out. I slip out from under his arm and lay him down. What time is it, anyway? Only eleven, says the wall clock. This god-forsaken day still hasn’t ended, then. I go to Yosuke’s bedroom and grab his blanket from his bed so I can drape it over him on the couch, then head back to my room to see if I might be able to get some sleep. I check my phone for any notifications (there are none), my eye catching once more on the scrap from Kiyomi’s notebook on my desk.

So I curl up in my bed, hoping for the sweet release of sleep to take me away from tonight, yet all I can think about as I lie here is how empty the bed feels without her next to me. She broke up with me nearly a week ago now, but until tonight there’s been no tangible difference in my life as a result. Tonight’s the first time that her absence really affects me, and I notice how desperately I wish she were here. As I consider this, a thought occurs to me. A terrible thought, but a tempting one. 

The thought refuses to leave my head. Unable to sleep, I get over and walk to my desk, and even as I take a seat a part of me screams inside that this is a horrible idea. Honestly, right now, I just don’t care. I grab a pen and slide the piece of Kiyomi’s notebook in front of me, and knowing full well what I’m doing, I put the pen to the paper.

———

I’m back in the forest from before, standing on the stone walkway leading to the shrine. A quarter moon glows overhead. I suppose this is just where this scrap of paper takes me, then. I look around, but all I can see is more forest. Kiyomi mentioned something before - something about how, normally, this world is pure white, and it’s our desires that make it take form. Perhaps I need to find a place like that? I know the shrine lies ahead of me, so perhaps I should turn around and see where that leads me.

So I walk down the stone path away from the temple, only to find that it seems to go on for quite a ways. It’s difficult to tell if I’m even making progress; around every bend in the road, all I see is more bamboo and more walkway. All of this just makes me further doubt that I should ever have tried to come here again at all. I knew it couldn’t end well. As I think this, someone taps me on the shoulder. Even before I turn around, I know there’s only one other person it could be.

“You’ve got some nerve coming back here,” Kiyomi scowls. Unlike last time, she’s dressed in her more usual black shirt and skirt outfit. Immediately I notice something is off, though it takes me just a second to snap to it - she’s wearing an equally-black eyepatch over her left eye.

“What happened?” I ask, pointing to the patch.

“It doesn’t matter,” she responds curtly, crossing her arms. No one wants to give me a straight answer today. “What are you doing here? Did you come to insult me some more?”

“No,” I reply.

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. I wanted…” I’m too embarrassed and ashamed to even speak of what it is I came here for. So I think up something else. “I want you to show me how this world works.”

“Why? Isn’t coming in here _cowardly?_ Don’t you have everything you need out in the other world?” I am too tired and too inebriated to get into this with her. I can’t even really judge her that much, considering my own situation.

“I’m sorry,” I plead, “I just want this one thing. That’s all. Please help me.” Perhaps she sees the desperation written on my face, but her furious expression softens considerably. She takes a step closer to me.

“Okay,” she concedes, her voice sweeter than I would have expected, “I understand. First, we need to go somewhere empty.”

“How?” I ask. She grabs my hand and locks her thin fingers in mine. The next instant, the sights and sounds of the bamboo forest have evaporated. We stand now in what appears as an empty white void; I seem to be standing on solid ground, but there’s no way to differentiate the floor from the air. All I see is white, and her, standing next to me.

“What now?” I inquire.

“Close your eyes,” she instructs me, “and just give it a moment.” I oblige. As I close my eyes, I picture the scene in my head, exactly as I want it. The smell of the salty seawater, of her citrusy shampoo. The sound of the waves rolling over the sand. The sight of the sun descending over the horizon, reflecting in the water. And just as these sensations run through my head, my nose begins to pick up that exact scent. I feel Kiyomi’s hand separate from mine, and I open my eyes.

I’m standing on the shore of Shichiri Beach, looking out over the horizon as the sun sets, the surrounding sky a perfectly beautiful blend of purple and orange mirrored by the ocean beneath. Waves wash gently over the sand. And standing to my right, dressed in her thick green winter coat, is Chie.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Chie asks. Is it really her?

“It is,” I answer. Chie wraps her arms around my right arm and holds it tightly, resting her head against my shoulder. I tilt my head behind me to see Kiyomi leaning into the railing behind us, staring out to the horizon. She’s the only thing breaking the illusion. I turn back and look out over the ocean.

“Chie,” I whisper.

“Hmm?” She snuggles my arm.

“Tell me you’ll never leave me.”

“Of course not,” she whispers back. I know for fact that she’s lying. This Chie is just telling me what I want to hear. But somehow, despite that, it still makes me feel better to hear it.

“Tell me you’ll always be there for me.”

“I will.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Chie lets go of my arm, so I face her. The next moment she hugs me so powerfully she knocks me on my back onto the sand. She presses her lips against mine and mine obey, allowing her tongue to enter my mouth. Even the texture of her lips, the movement of her tongue, all of it feels utterly real. Out of the corner of my eye I see Kiyomi walk away, leaving Chie and I alone on the shore to enjoy whatever this is. But right now, I don’t care what it is. I’m with Chie, on the beach, on Valentine’s Day. That’s all I want.

**February 15, 2015**

Chie rests her head on my chest as we lie down and stare up at the starlit sky. Stars are a rarity to see in Tokyo through the glow of the city and all its lights and smoke, but out on the rural beach where the air is clear, they speckle the night like glitter. As we lie there, my eyes grow tired; if it was around eleven o’clock when I came here, I can only imagine how late it is now. Falling asleep here is probably a bad idea - what if Yosuke finds I’m gone when he wakes up? - but it’s difficult to fight the urge with how tired I feel and how comfortable I am laying on the beach with Chie on top of me.

Just as I’m starting to nod off, I hear someone walk on the steps behind us. I look over at Kiyomi, who sits on one of the steps, writing fervently on a notepad she rests against her knees. I wonder briefly why she’s not writing in her usual notebook before the obvious answer occurs to me. She pauses every few moments to stare up at the sky before putting her nose back in her pad.

“Still not gonna tell me what you’re writing in there, are you?” I ask her, rubbing my eyes.

“Nope.” Didn’t expect her to, but it was worth trying.

“What would you do if I snatched that notepad while you weren’t looking?”

“Tsch,” she says, “you would do that, wouldn’t you?” I feel like she’s almost holding back a laugh. Come to think of it, have I ever heard her laugh?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I reply, but she doesn’t answer, continuing to write in her notepad. “Anyway,” I continue, “I’m trying to share a moment with my girlfriend and you’re intruding. Right, Chie?”

“Yeah, I want to be alone with Yu-kun,” Chie agrees, rolling over and pouting in Kiyomi’s direction.

“First of all, that’s not your girlfriend, she dumped you—”

“How did you know that?” I point out. She pauses, and I swear I see her, er, _eye_ widen for a moment before answering.

“Because you wouldn’t be here otherwise,” she finally responds, rolling her only visible eye as her words jab an emotional stake into my heart, “and anyway, of course that thing agrees with you. It’ll say whatever you want it to say.” Until Kiyomi came back, I had almost managed to forget this was all fake. So thanks for that.

“You didn’t have to rub it in,” I say. She purses her lips and puts her notepad down beside her.

“You’re right,” she sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“An honest apology from you? Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Now you’re the one being an asshole, jerkface.” She’s right, so I back down. I turn back to the Chie laying on top of me, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with disgust. Now that Kiyomi’s shattered the illusion, all I see when I look at her is a gross manifestation of my own regret. I push Chie off of me, and presumably because this world knows I don’t want her anymore, she simply fades out of existence. Kiyomi, looking concerned, gets up and walks over to me. She kneels down and puts her hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“This was a mistake,” I reply. “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want this tonight, but I can’t come here again.” I expect her to get angry at me like before, but instead she just looks upset. I can’t read this girl. Her hand slips off my shoulder, defeated.

“Fine,” she says, looking away. “It’s not like I wanted you to come back, anyway.” She says that, but her drooping body language tells a different story. She makes no sense. In any case, though, I’ve been here long enough. Just as before, all I do is wish to go home, and my vision fades to white. The next thing I know, I’m seated back at my desk, and the clock on my phone says it’s two in the morning. Way past time to go to bed.

———

“Good morning,” Yosuke greets me as he stumbles in to the living room at around nine in the morning. I’m over in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and coffee.

“Morning,” I reply back, flipping an egg in the sizzling pan.

“Oh man, that smells delicious,” he says, sitting on the couch and flipping on the TV. “Let me know when it’s done.”

“Will do.”

“Hey, by the way,” he transitions, “did you go somewhere last night?” Shit. My whole body locks up for just a second.

“What? No, I didn’t. Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe my memory’s a little fuzzy, but I feel like, we were playing games over here, and then I fell asleep on the couch. Then I woke up last night and decided to go sleep in my bed, and when I went to check on you in your room, you weren’t there.” Ugh, I figured he’d be asleep the whole time I was gone.

“I was definitely here. I was probably in my bed asleep by then. You were probably just tired and didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” he shrugs. Crisis averted. “Oh, and uh, I didn’t… well…” He trails off.

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t say anything, er, weird… last night… did I?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… well, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

**END OF PART TWO**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This month marks one year since I first published chapter one online! Back then, I was actually planning on releasing a chapter every week. I managed to do it for about four weeks before it all fell apart. At the time I started writing, I was on medical leave from my job, so I had a lot more free time to devote to it. I actually wrote the first three chapters in about two weeks, altogether. The creation date for the Scrivener file (I switched to Ulysses around chapter six - if you have a Mac, I highly recommend it!) I started writing in was May 8, 2014, and I published chapter one to AO3 on the 18th. At that point I already had chapter two finished and was about halfway through chapter three. Time flies, doesn’t it?
> 
> Oh, right, there’s a chapter to talk about. Where to begin? One thing I’ve put a lot of thought and focus into is making Yu relatable. I believe that in my generation (I’m an early-twenty-something), there’s a lot of people who feel stuck in their lives, and I wanted Yu to capture that in a believable way that makes sense for his character. Fortunately, because Yu is such a blank slate in many ways, there were gaps to fill in - despite him being so social in _P4_ , it’s easy to imagine that he was a bit more isolated prior to the game due to his parents’ work, for instance.
> 
> But something that’s always bothered me about Yu’s characterization in so many works is that he’s Mister Perfect. He’s smart, he’s charming, he’s powerful, he’s determined, he’s caring, and everyone in _P4_ is practically (or often literally) in love with him. So something that was really important to me in this story is to show Yu as deeply flawed. There’s a line I wrote back in chapter seven that Chie said - “I’m not strong. I try so hard to be strong, but I’m really weak. The only reason I feel like I can do anything is because you and the others are there by my side.” I think, while that’s something Chie feels, it’s even more true of Yu. Without his friends he feels alone and powerless.
> 
> This is something especially touched on in the anime, both in the Shadow Mitsuo fight and the True Ending bonus episode - Yu’s greatest fear is losing his friends. You could almost say _MotC_ as a whole is built around the situation depicted in the anime’s Shadow Mitsuo fight, where everyone just kind of drifts apart once the case is solved and Yu begins feeling lost and alone. _P4_ of course ends on a very positive note even after the protag moves away, but in truth, keeping friendships and romantic relationships going long distance is incredibly difficult. It’s possible, but it’s not inevitable by any means. (I… may know this first hand.)
> 
> And the second half of this chapter, where Yu goes into the notebook world and imagines being back at Shichiri Beach with Chie… that’s Yu giving into his darkest impulses. You might remember chapter one of this story actually started with lines paraphrased from Yu’s “Shadow” in the True Ending episode of _P4: The Animation_ , where he admits that part of him would rather live in a lie surrounded by his friends than live in reality without them. Yes, this is a theme I’ve been trying to build on since day one, haha. The ending of this chapter is Yu giving into that side of him, telling himself it’s okay, it’s just this one thing. I think that’s actually a fascinating flaw for him to have, given _P4’s_ defining central theme about always searching for the truth. What if Yu has trouble dealing with the truth? How does Yu cope with uncomfortable truths?
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the Pink Floyd song of the same name, from the album… also of the same name. Aside from the surface layer reading - Yu wishes Chie were there - the last verse also spoke to me about Yu. “Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears.”
> 
> As always, I love to hear from you all. I deeply appreciate all of the comments and reviews I’ve received, they mean a lot to me. Having personally battled with depression, I am incredibly honored and touched to hear from readers who say they can relate to Yu’s struggle or that reading this story helped them in their own lives. As far as I am concerned, all my readers are superheroes, and I’m rooting for you. Please feel free to comment or review the story here, or reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. And don’t be scared by the “end of part two” at the end of this chapter - there will be a part three. Until then.
> 
> \- Akinari


	15. Nowhere Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yu is picking up mixed signals.

**PART THREE**

**???**

My eyes open to pitch black darkness. I can’t even perceive my own body hidden in all this nothing. Come to think of it, do I even have a body in this place? I try to move what would normally be my limbs, but I feel no sensation from doing so. Perhaps I am not physically here, I am merely observing this scene as if through a window.

And yet, I do feel something, a feeling both familiar and foreign. As if I am somewhere I have been many times but have never been here at all. Where is it that this feeling reminds me of? As I consider this, a spotlight turns on with a quiet click, illuminating a small section of the room. Directly beneath the spotlight sits a square table, wooden and black with a felt top. Two wooden chairs face each other on opposite ends of the table. I can faintly make out the the tile floor beneath the table as well, covered in a black and white chevron pattern. From my right I hear a voice, surly and raspy, almost monstrous. It bears only a passing resemblance to a human voice.

“How brave of you to show your face here,” it snarls. I wonder momentarily if the voice is talking to me, but from my left I hear another voice answer back, a man, calm and smooth.

“Do not take my words for jest, it is truly good to see you again,” the man speaks. “How have you been?”

“Spare me your pleasantries,” the other voice sneers, “what are you doing in this place?”

“I’m simply here to visit an old acquaintance,” the man replies. “Perhaps I was worried that even the haunter of the dark may feel loneliness, having been trapped here so long.”

“How kind of you,” the monster mocks the man.

“To be honest,” the man begins, “I was hoping if we might play a game together, as we did before. For old times’ sake.”

“Are you giving me a choice?” the monster asks, but the man simply pulls out the chair on the left side of the table and takes a seat. The spotlight does not extend far enough to allow me a view of the man’s face; even his legs are covered by the shadow of the table. But his hand, tan and covered in a black sleeve, sets a deck of playing cards on top of the table. The back of the cards is blue, decorated in a pattern of butterflies. The man shuffles the deck skillfully and delicately deals five cards both to himself and to the opposite end of the table. He picks up and observes his own hand.

“Are you coming? I thought you would enjoy the company,” the man questions.

“What is our wager?” the monster asks in return. The man chuckles as he pulls one of his hands out of the light before returning it with a handful of small silver coins. He stacks them, separating them into four piles of ten coins apiece, pushing two piles to the other end of the table. The monster cackles, his voice throaty and old. “You must be very confident.”

“I am,” the man answers with no hesitation, “because I know there shall be no foul play this time.” I hear the chair on the right side of the table scrape the floor as whoever is on my right takes a seat, and I see something reach for the other hand of cards. But what I see is not an arm. It’s not even human. It looks—

**June 2, 2015**

God, these pills are giving me the weirdest dreams. Not that I didn’t have bizarre ones before, I guess; the sight of Nanako in a luchador mask left a permanent mark on my soul. But this one tonight was a new level of surreal. Perhaps it’s something to talk with my doctor about tomorrow. Brain chemistry can be very fickle.

What time is it, anyway? I glance at the alarm clock by my bed to see it’s 5 AM. Seriously, when was the last time I got a proper night’s sleep? All this restlessness surely hasn’t been helping my mental state, either. To make matters worse, 5 AM is in that awkward position where it’s too early to comfortably get up but too late to go back to sleep. Great. So I get up, turn on a light, and head to the kitchen to start making my morning coffee.

———

“You see,” Professor Watanabe begins, “Jung theorized that dreams weren’t just our imaginations running wild. They have structure, themes, symbols. Jung saw them as a sort of play, put on by our own psyche. And thus, they are a window into our own unconscious. And different dreams,” he continues, walking over to the chalkboard, “are put on by different parts of our psyche.” He draws a circle on the chalkboard, dividing it into three sections from top to bottom. “There’s a lot of different models out there to illustrate how Jung visualized the structure of the psyche, but for our purposes we’re going to think of it this way. There are three major ‘layers’ of sorts, to the psyche…”

At this point in the lecture I doze off, having already done all the reading on this before class. Why did I sign up for another semester of psychology classes, anyway? Did I just let Fujimori-sensei talk me into it, because I had no better ideas? Or perhaps some part of me was hoping, foolishly, to encounter a certain someone in here again?

I haven’t seen her since February. I thought she might come out of her cave after last time we spoke, but the smoking area on campus remains as solitary as before I met her and after she left. All that just raises the question, why am I still thinking about her four months later? At first I thought it was just down to loneliness, but any confidence I had in that idea faded a while back.

“Worry” - that’s the word that keeps coming to mind. I worry about her. There exists some instinct in me, that once upon a time in a distant past served me very well, that drives me to save people. Not necessarily from mortal danger, though I suppose I did that, too. It’s more like, I want to save people from themselves. Just as much as anyone else, I know what it’s like to be haunted by your own thoughts. To feel trapped in your own misery and looking for any way to escape. And something about her just screams out that she’s calling for help.

“Narukami!” Watanabe-sensei snaps me out of my daydream. “Pop-quiz, what archetype of the psyche did Jung believe to house our most primal, dark thoughts?”

“The shadow,” I answer without skipping a beat.

“Very good,” Watanabe laughs, “good to see someone’s payi—“

“Oh my god,” I blurt out on accident.

“What is it?”

“I just realized… never mind,” I brush it off. That realization only took a semester and a half of psychology classes.

“Well,” Watanabe continues, “your homework this week is to keep a dream diary every day. I know, sometimes it’s hard to remember everything that happens in a dream, but try to keep a notebook by your bed and jot down everything you remember when you wake up. And I know some dreams may be a little personal, so you only need to have one dream that we can work with. On Saturday, I want you to bring the notebook to class, pair off, and try to analyze one of your partner’s dreams.” Of course I get this assignment now. My classmate’s gonna think I’m a mad man.

———

After I get home, I dig through my backpack, finally pulling out my psych notebook I’m gonna use for the dream diary. As I set it on my bedside table, my phone starts ringing on its charger - it’s from the Dojima residence. Huh. I go ahead and answer it.

“Hello?” I ask, but at first I just hear the phone shuffling around on the other end, as if being handed over to someone else. After a few moments I get a response.

“Big bro?” The simple sound of that voice saying those words sends a dopamine rush through my head.

“Nanako!” I reply cheerfully, “How are you doing? It’s been a while!”

“I’m good! Dad took me to Mai-chan’s place today and we played by the riverbank!”

“That sounds like it was a lot of fun,” I say with a grunt, lying down on my bed with the phone on speaker. “And what about school?”

“Oh, I wanted to talk to you about that. I got a writing assignment at school today!”

“Really? What do you gotta write about?”

“My teacher said to write one page about my hero. And…” She trails off shyly, and in my head I can picture her little face blushing. “I wanted to write about you.” My throat clenches.

“That’s…” That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me in a long time. “That’s very nice of you, Nanako-chan, but maybe you should write about your dad.”

“My teacher told me to pick someone who’s not my mom or my dad or my brother or sister.” And I guess I’m not _actually_ her brother. So why do I feel so strongly that she shouldn’t write this about me? “And she said I should write about what you do and why you are my hero, but I don’t know what you do, so Dad told me I should call you.”

“Well,” I start, trying to bide time while I figure out what exactly it is I do, “you know what I do. I go to school out here in Tokyo. And I’m studying, uhh…” I glance around until my eyes catch on the dream diary notebook. “Psychology!”

“Psychology?”

“Yeah, like, why people think and act the way they do.”

“That’s so cool!” Nanako enthuses. “I think Dad works with someone like that.”

“Yep, the police work with criminal psychologists to try to figure out how bad people think, so they can catch them.”

“I think it was the man Dad hired to talk to Mr. Adachi.”

“… O-oh.” That’s a little different.

“Thank you, big bro! I’m going to put that in my paper.”

“Hey, Nanako-chan?”

“Yeah?”

“When you’re all done, give me a call back and read it to me, okay?”

“Okay. Aoki-sensei said it’s due on Saturday, so I’ll call you back then.”

“Thank you. Make sure to write something really good, okay?”

“Yeah, I promise. Byebye!” She hangs up the phone, leaving me to stare up at the ceiling, and leaving her with no idea how many of my emotional buttons that conversation just pushed.

**June 3, 2015**

“And how does that make you feel?” Nomura-san, my counselor, asks from her recliner behind me.

“What, being called a hero?” I return her question as I close my eyes, relaxing in the long, sloping chair in her office.

“Yes.”

“That’s the thing,” I pause to collect my thoughts, unsure of how exactly to put it, “I’m not sure. Flattered, I guess. Logically, it makes sense for Nanako in particular to feel that way.”

“How so?” I can hear her typing away as I speak.

“I… well, I saved her life. Plus I always tried to be sort of a bridge between her and my uncle, and I definitely believe I left them closer than they were when I met them. So I guess I understand why she might see me that way, but…”

“Hmm?”

“Sometimes,” I begin, “I feel like my head is a television, and when other people look at me, my antenna picks up on their thoughts and just sort of projects an image on the screen of whoever they want me to be. They look straight at my face but all they’re seeing is some fictional character in a TV show playing out on my screen, some idealized version of me that they’ve imagined.”

“You know, Narukami-san,” Nomura interrupts, “everyone projects different personalities and attitudes when they are around different people. Everyone wears different masks, different…” She trails off, tapping her fingers on her laptop’s palm rest. “There’s another word I’m looking for.”

“Different façades?” I suggest.

“No, that’s not it. I’ll think of it later. In any event, we all act differently around different people, that’s a perfectly natural and normal thing to do. We adapt to changing social environments.”

“I don’t think that’s what I’m talking about, though. It’s not that I’m changing to adapt to different people, it’s that I feel like other people don’t really see me in the first place. They just see in me who they want to see.”

“Nonetheless,” she argues, “everyone does that to an extent. Have you ever considered that you, yourself, might project your own feelings about a person onto them?” She makes a fair point, but I’m still not sure that’s hitting at the root of my problem.

“I think part of it is that, at least with my closest friends, I got to know their true selves early on. Their most secret thoughts and feelings were laid bare to me almost as soon as I met them, so there was nothing to hide. But I don’t think any of them have ever seen that side of me.”

“Perhaps you should open up to them. They showed that side of themselves to you, after all. They trust you.”

“Not on purpose, though. It’s… it’s complicated.” I open my eyes and sit up, scratching an itch on the back of my head. “Can we stop here for today?”

“Okay,” she answers, setting her tiny laptop down on the table beside her. “I certainly think we are making progress, don’t you?” No.

“Maybe.”

“We’ll go ahead and schedule another session for next Monday, so just go to the checkout desk and the clerk will provide all the documentation you need.”

“Thank you. Oh, one other thing,” I remember as I’m about to walk out the door, “could you tell the doctor the pills he put me on are giving me some weird dreams? It’s hard to sleep.”

“Of course,” she answers as I close the door behind me.

**???**

I’m sitting back at my desk at Yasogami High School. Room 2-2 is as dusty and old as I remember, and I’m dressed once more in that half-stitched winter uniform jacket. Rain pelts the classroom windows, and a thick fog makes it impossible to see anything else. Kashiwagi stands at the front of the class, her face turned away as she writes absolute nonsense on the chalkboard:

_Lemon tea_

_Milk tea_

_Spicy mint tea_

I turn to my right, where Chie would normally sit, and yes, she’s there, but she too is turned away. Everyone is, actually. Yosuke’s one desk behind me, but his head is buried in his arms like he’s taking a nap. Even the students in the rear are just staring at the cabinets at the back of the classroom. So I turn back around and raise my hand.

“Kashiwagi-sensei?” I call out, but she just continues writing her gibberish on the board. What the hell is going on? Why is everyone turned away from me? I slam my fists on the desk. “Hey!”

The room fills with a low electronic hum as everyone turns to face me, and I immediately stand up in shock. Everyone’s faces are covered in half-black, half-white masks, and grafted onto their foreheads are tiny satellite dishes. I can actually see the radio waves emitting out of their antennas, all being beamed in my direction. I spin frantically around the classroom, looking for the door, when I notice the giant windows in the class have become mirrors, and it’s my own appearance that horrifies me the most. In my head’s place I see an old wooden 70’s television set, and on my screen cycles a repeating pattern. A classmate’s face, totally blank in expression. Static. Colored test bars. My own face, also blank. Static. Repeat. Over and over again, a different classmate each time.

I avert my eyes from the mirrors and, as quickly as I can, I rush to the classroom door and slide it open. Instead of leading to the hallway outside, however, it opens to the Dojimas’ living room. Dojima sits at the dinner table, reading his completely blank newspaper with his satellite face, while Nanako stares in to the television in the corner, her satellite broadcasting waves to the TV antenna. On the television plays a program of her and I, playing together on the flood plain. Nanako turns and sees me come in.

“Big bro!” She speaks, but it’s in my voice, not her’s. She runs to hug me, but in terror I just push her to the floor.

“Get away,” I scream, “get away from me!” I bolt towards the staircase and head to my bedroom, but when I open the door and step in I find myself back in Yomotsu Hirasaka, forced to my knees on the woven red floor. A cold mist hangs in the air as Izanami-no-Okami towers over me in all her disgusting splendor. She picks me up in her one of many massive, rotten hands of bare meat and bone, bringing me close enough to look her in her mutilated and decaying face. I stare straight in to her empty abyssal eye sockets.

“Sinful son of man,” she hisses, “have you found the truth you have struggled for?” Her breath poisons my lungs, the stench enough to gag me. Unable to answer, all I can do is scream until my chest explodes as the rest of her decomposing arms smother me in their grasp and my vision cuts to black.

Eventually my eyes open again, and I find myself once more in that mist-filled void where I once laid dying. But instead of the voices of my friends calling out to save me, a figure stands before me in a white robe. In the shadow of their cloak I cannot see their face, but they speak to me.

“Hey,” the voice whispers, soft and feminine, “it may be hard, but you can still stand. I know you can. Here,” she calls to me and extends her hand. Tired and weak as I am, I take it, and through her strength she pulls me back on to my feet—

**June 6, 2015**

“Partner! Partner, you alright?!” Yosuke shakes me awake, his eyes stretched by the force of fear. His unkempt hair tells me just got out of bed.

“Y-yeah,” I mutter.

“You scared the hell out of me, man,” he yells, letting go of me with a sigh of relief. “You were in here screaming in your sleep. I was afraid you were having a heart attack or something.”

“It’s these meds,” I grunt, rubbing my tired eyes. “They’ve been giving me nightmares or something.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He stands up and starts heading out the room. He stops and turns just before he’s about to close the door. “Hey, is there, uh… is there anything you need from me?”

“No, I think I’ll be okay now.”

“Alright. Night, partner.” He closes the door. I sit up to try to collect myself after whatever the hell that dream was, and my eyes fall on that dream diary notebook on my bedside table. For some reason I think I’d rather keep this particular dream to myself.

———

“Alright,” Kinoshita-kun pulls his dream diary from my hands, “now that we’ve done mine, let’s take a look at yours.” I grab my own dream diary notebook and flip to an entry.

“Here you go.” I offer the notebook to him.

“So what do we have here?” he wonders aloud. “What stuff goes through the mind of the guy at the top of the class?” His eyes scan the entry I handed him, and he checks it twice as if unsure it’s a joke. “That’s it, really? That’s the best entry you got?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“Man, you nerd kids have boring thoughts. A frog bouncing around in a forest, running from a bird? Are you sure this is a dream you had and not, like, some children’s book?”

“It is,” I insist, “and please don’t mock me. This is serious.”

“Whatever, man,” he laughs. “So there’s a frog, he’s running from this bird, he ends up in a pond. And this all has to do with your subconscious or something.”

“Are you going to interpret it or not?”

“Hate to break it to you, but you got paired with a guy who sleeps through all the lectures.” He tosses my notebook back at me. “I just wanted to see what a guy like you dreams about. Turns out it’s pretty boring.”

———

“So? How’d it go?”

“Great!” Nanako exclaims cheerfully. “My teacher said it was really good and she could tell I tried really hard. She gave me a 100.”

“That’s fantastic,” I tell her, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, big bro. Oh, do you still want me to read it to you?” I hesitate for a moment.

“Sure, go ahead.” I hear the rustling of papers from the other end of the phone line.

“‘My Hero,’ by Nanako Dojima,” she begins. “My hero is my big bro, Yu Narukami. He’s not actually my big bro though, he’s my cousin. He’s Dad’s sister’s son. He lived with Dad and me for a year four years ago. He was so cool. He would play with me and his friends would come over and play too! He would always stand up for me to Dad when Dad was being mean, and then he helped Dad and me be friends again. Dad was always working and he didn’t play with me a lot but big bro got him to be with me a lot more. One time a scary guy took me out of the house and I was really scared but big bro and his friends all came and saved me, and then when I was really sick for a while they would always come visit me in the hospital all the time. Big bro is my hero and he will always be very special to me and I love him and I miss him very much.”

I drop the phone on my bed, faintly able to hear Nanako asking, “What do you think, big bro? … Big bro?” from the receiver. I know I should be flattered, I know everything she said is true, and I know that should make me feel incredibly proud of myself. Why doesn’t it? Why does hearing her talk about me like that feel like nails getting hammered into my chest?

It’s because I don’t see the person in her paper in myself anymore. She hasn’t lived with me for years, her only memories of me after I moved out are of the occasional visit each summer and winter where I can keep up the illusion. Would she still feel the same way about me if she knew me now? How could she? That Yu she wrote about doesn’t exist anymore, if he ever really did.

“Big bro?” I can’t bring myself to leave her on the hook any longer.

“Hey, sorry,” I apologize, picking the phone back up. “That’s a really great paper, Nanako-chan. I’m really happy to hear you say all that about me. That means a lot.”

“Thank you. You’re really special to me and I wanted to tell everyone about it.”

“Well, you did a great job.”

“Dad says dinner’s almost ready so I’m gonna go, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Definitely. Go enjoy your dinner, okay?”

“Okay. Bye!” She disconnects the call, and man, I need something to take my mind off everything I just thought about. I instinctively reach for the cigarette pack in my pocket and pull one out without even looking. I walk into the living room, currently vacant, and sit on the sofa next to the window before lighting up. The dorm window offers a pretty poor view, just the parking lot outside, but all I need is a change of scenery, something to gaze at other than the four walls and ceiling of my bedroom.

But none of it distracts me from the question that’s sending shockwaves through my head: if I’m not the person Nanako wrote about in that paper, who am I?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to part three of _Memories of the City!_ Back when I decided to section the story into “parts”, it was a bit of a spur of the moment decision, but in hindsight I think it made sense to do. Part one is sort of the setup - establishing where Yu is at in his life, his interactions with others, his worldview. Part two introduces Kiyomi and the world in her notebook, climaxing in Yu escaping into the notebook to live out Valentine’s Day with Chie. Where will part three take us…?
> 
> This whole chapter is very difficult to write notes for because I want to leave a lot of it open to reader interpretation. There is certainly a statement I was going for in this chapter - I think it’s obvious that the whole thing is sort of an exploration of Yu as a character - but I want you to draw your own conclusions, haha. I will say that, if there’s any artists reading this, I would absolutely love to see someone draw the scene of Yu at Yasogami High School in his nightmare this chapter, his television head filled with colored test bars…
> 
> Finding ways to include characters from _P4_ in this story can be a little tricky. Obviously, Yu’s hours away from anyone in Inaba, so they can’t be showing up all the time, and it’d also be weird to have characters appearing constantly in a story where a central conceit is that Yu is growing distant from his friends! So a big goal with this chapter was to give Nanako a presence in the story that made sense. Caring, enthusiastic, but distant. That’s not to say she won’t appear more.
> 
> Oh, and as for the opening dream, I think that if you know what’s happening there, I don’t need to explain very much, and if you don’t know what’s happening, I’d rather stay quiet. I tried to write in such a way that certain people will know very clearly what’s happening and certain people will have no idea. I’d wager that most people who have read 45k words into this fic probably fall into the former group though, haha.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from The Beatles track of the same name from their album _Rubber Soul_. I’ll let you look up the lyrics and make your own interpretation there too, haha. And, as always, I love to hear from you all, so feel free to comment here or reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. See you next chapter!
> 
> \- Akinari


	16. Set Fire to the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yu brings home a stray left out in the rain, and also a cat.

**TW: This chapter depicts thoughts of suicide.**

**July 13, 2015**

The thunder roars outside, encroaching ever closer as the hours go by, the rain tapping its fingernails incessantly on the windows. For the past week it’s been like this, nonstop, through sunrises and sunsets, with no sign of relenting. My umbrella surely enjoys it; it hasn’t seen such heavy use like this in over a year, at least. Sadly I can’t say the same for myself. Drenched clothes create a lot of dirty laundry, and God knows Yosuke’s not gonna do it. Speaking of Yosuke, I suppose he smelled the sizzling bacon in the frying pan, for he’s out of bed a bit earlier than I’d expect.

“Morning,” he mutters sleepily, his face illuminated solely by the small light above the oven, “you making breakfast?”

“No,” I answer, checking the timer for the rice. “I’m making dinner. You slept all day and missed your classes.”

“What?! Why didn’t you wake me— oh,” he interrupts himself, having noticed the clock on the stove reading six thirty in the morning. “Ha ha, very funny. Classic Yu.”

“It was funny, wasn’t it?” He forces a sort of grunt-laugh combination.

“Glad you seem to be feeling better, anyway,” he sighs, plopping on to the couch and turning on the TV.

“I am,” I admit, “I think my doctors have been helping a lot, actually.”

“No more weird nightmares?”

“Nope, I answer before backpedaling. “Well, there was one strange one, last week, but I think it was just a one-off thing.”

“Ooh, what was it?”

“I don’t really remember,” I respond, struggling to recall. “It was really bizarre. There were, like… there were sheep? And… edges.”

“Edges?” Yosuke asks. I suppose that doesn’t make much sense on its own.

“I don’t know, I just remember a voice saying the word ‘edge’ a lot. Over and over again.”

“Uh, well, it’s good that’s stopped,” he says with a look of both confusion and relief, “you were kinda scaring me for a while there, dude. Hey, listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up?”

“Well, you know summer break’s coming up in two weeks, right? And you’re going to visit Inaba with me? I mean, I assume you are.”

“Of course,” I reply, noticing that he’s fixed his eyes carefully on my face, watching my expression.

“I was thinking, we haven’t really had a group get-together in a while, you know? Since everyone’s busy, I figure I should probably plan something in advance, so I was gonna try and organize a little something with me, you, Teddie, Kanji, Yukiko, and…” He notices the grimace on my face before he says the final name. “Look, I get it. I totally get it. But she’s kind of a package deal with Yukiko, and we can’t _not_ invite them. It’d be a total sausagefest without Rise or Naoto in town.”

“No,” I respond point blank.

“Come on, man. I’m trying to broker peace here. You guys have me in this super awkward position between you two. Work with me.” I flip the bacon over and put the tongs down, walking over to the living room. Before answering, I take a deep breath to collect my thoughts.

“Have you talked to her about this?”

“I haven’t, I was gonna do that next time I speak to her.”

“Okay then, I’ll make you a deal. If she’s willing to do it, I’ll do it.” A deal I’m only willing to make because I suspect she won’t.

“Deal. Oh, and one more thing. I’m probably not gonna be home till late most of the week. I’m taking some after-school tutoring for mid-terms. Just a heads-up.”

“Gotcha. So, uh…” How do I ask this without making it weird? “You still talk to Chie regularly?”

“We text a bit, it’s not all the time or anything.” I’m not jealous at all. Why would I be jealous? What strange and uncomfortable mixture of emotions about various people involved in this could possibly make me jealous? “Hey,” he blurts out, noticing how completely collected I am, “she and I were friends before you even came to Inaba. You think things are uncomfortable for you, imagine how I feel here in the middle.”

“What? I’m not uncomfortable,” I insist. “I am totally fine.” Suddenly the smoke detector in the dorm room starts shrieking horrifically, deafening me until my instincts react and I cover my ears. I look back over at the stove, where smoke rises in thick clouds from the pan where the bacon - now blackened and burnt - resides.

“Shiiiiiit,” Yosuke screams over the sound of the smoke detector. Meanwhile I’m nearly tripping over myself as I rush to turn the stovetop off. After shutting the burner off and fanning the smoke wildly with an oven mitt, the smoke detector finally relents. Yosuke and I both take a sigh of relief. Through panting breaths I speak,

“Totally fine.”

———

Thankfully, the smoking area on campus has an awning overhead protecting it from the rain, making it an ideal spot to hang out between classes. So at the end of the school day, before I begin heading home, I decide to sit down and burn one last cigarette. Honestly, with Yosuke at tutoring, I’m in no hurry to go home. If not for the rain I’d much rather stay up here a while longer than head back to an empty dorm room.

While the tip of my cigarette burns brightly against the dim grey atmosphere, I notice a peculiar sight. Two butterflies pass by the bench, the first a pitch black - not just black, but almost abyssal, as if its color is a void in which light could neither enter nor escape. Trailing just behind it is a blue butterfly, glowing brilliantly, just as I saw on the train last winter. Again? Am I hallucinating or something?

As if in answer to that question, out from under the bench crawls a small black kitten, who watches the butterflies closely with jade green eyes. The butterflies fly away, but the kitten tries to chase after them until it trips over its own front leg and tumbles to the ground. But it doesn’t stand up; it simply mews pitifully from the concrete. The poor thing. I put my cigarette in the ashtray and rush over to its side. Its mewing grows louder, but strained — it’s clearly terrified of me but too weak to run away. It’s also small enough for me to pick it up in one hand, so I hold it gently and try to pet its tiny head. Even for a kitten, it— or she, rather, feels almost weightless in my hand, and my fingers catch on a number of mats in its thick rain-soaked fur.

“Hey there,” I whisper, trying to comfort her, “it’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe, okay?” She mews one last time in defeat and stops struggling.

I guess I have a reason to hurry home now.

———

“Oh, what the hell, Yu?”

I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. Yosuke’s standing in the doorway to the dorm, taking off his shoes.

“Huh? What now?” I reply groggily.

“You know we can’t have pets in here.” He stares at my lap, where the kitten from earlier lays curled up in a furry ball.

“Just a stray I found on campus. What was I supposed to do, leave her there?” He doesn’t answer right away, instead taking a moment to set his backpack on the floor and take a seat in the chair next to the sofa.

“I don’t know, man, but we can’t keep it here. I’ll help you find a shelter or something.” He looks around the room, noticing the bag of cat food and litter sitting on the kitchen counter. “Wow, you’re really going all-in on this.”

“She was starving when I found her. I dropped by the store for that and a few other things on the way home.” I scratch the kitten behind her ears; she awakens with a startled murble. When she notices Yosuke, she leaps from my lap and runs to hide in the kitchen. “She’s definitely a little more energetic now.”

“I guess this is pretty typical you, isn’t it?” Yosuke laughs.

“Maybe I just like cats,” I reply.

“Well, now you know why you and Chie broke up. You’re a cat person, she’s a dog person. That can never work out.”

“That’s not funny.”

“O-oh, sorry,” he stutters. “It’s been a few months, I thought you might’ve… I dunno.” He doesn’t mean to be insensitive, I know. He’s just a dumbass sometimes.

“Don’t worry about it. But since you brought it up, did you get a chance to talk to her?”

“No, I’ve been busy all day,” he answers, rubbing his brow. “This is the first time I’ve had some free time, but now it’s ten o’clock, so… yeah, not tonight.” As he’s talking, I notice the kitten poking her head out from behind the kitchen counters, so I wave to her. She starts walking back towards me, slowly, only to cower once more when Yosuke turns to look in her direction. “Aw,” he groans, “there’s no reason to be scared of me.”

“She’s probably just shy, or afraid of people,” I console him. “Who knows what happened to her before I found her?”

**July 16, 2015**

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask. The rain yet pounds on the windows of my psychiatrist’s office. 

“There’s such a thing as doctor-patient confidentiality,” Nomura-san reminds me, cleaning her glasses with a small cloth.

“Well, this isn’t really a personal secret, it’s more… uh, breaking school rules, I guess. And you are technically employed by the school.” I stretch out a bit further in the chair.

“Nothing you tell me will ever leave this room,” she reassures me. I still hesitate for a moment, but I think I can trust her.

“I’ve been keeping a cat in my dorm room. J-just a small kitten, really, that I found on campus. I think it’s only a couple of weeks old. With how hard it’s been raining, I didn’t want to just leave her there.”

“Do you plan on keeping the cat?” One game I like to play during Nomura’s sessions is trying to figure out where she’s going with her questions. Everything she asks, she must ask me for a reason. She’s trying to figure something out about me. That is her job, after all. Still, I’m not sure yet what she’s going for here.

“I don’t know yet,” I answer. “I don’t want to get caught, and I’m not sure how my roommate would feel about it. Actually, now that I say that, I’m sure he’d probably go along with it if I asked him to,” I laugh. “At the same time though… I think I like having her around. She’s a sweet cat. She’s still not comfortable around my roommate, but she’ll snuggle up with me on the couch or lay on my stomach in bed. Sorry,” I cut myself off, “I’m probably getting off-track.”

“No, not at all,” Nomura-san replies. “Just say whatever’s on your mind. Keep going.”

“I’m not sure how much more there is to say,” I admit. “I mean, I guess it’s nice to know I’m never coming home to an empty dorm, too. And taking care of her gives me something to do.”

“Just as a hypothetical, if you had to give her up - say the dorm staff caught you - how would you feel?” Just imagining it makes my entire body tense, and I can feel a black hole forming in my chest.

“Like… like I lost something important,” I respond honestly. “Why are you asking me so much about this?”

“I’m simply trying to paint a better portrait of you,” she responds cryptically. “Even things like this can tell me a lot about the way your mind works.”

“Really? And what does all this say about me?”

“Ah,” she laughs, “what do you think it says about you?”

I don’t know why I expected a straight answer.

**July 18, 2015**

My shoes splash against the wet concrete as I walk down the sidewalk along the main road to campus after my last class, the barren trees from the winter now lush with greenery. The rain falls still, the droplets catching on the wind-rattled leaves overhead before they reach the ground. Yes, today it’s not just raining, but the wind gusts in full force, waging war on my ability to grip my umbrella. Had I not finally gotten my hair cut last week, my bangs would surely be blinding me.

I stop mid-stride when I come upon a bench beside the sidewalk, occupied by a single, hunched-over figure. A girl, sitting with her feet upon the bench, burying her head in her knees. I suspect she’s crying, but the noise from the wind makes it difficult to tell for sure. She’s not wearing a hoodie, or carrying an umbrella, but is instead completely exposed to the elements. Wait a second — her hair’s a bit longer, and her attire has more sleeves than I remember, but I know who this is. What the hell is she doing here?

“Kiyomi?” I ask, taking a seat on the bench next to her. I lean in, trying to shelter her from the rain with my umbrella.

“Stay away,” she whimpers, tilting her head enough to look at me with her one exposed eye, the other still hidden behind an eyepatch. I swear there’s something different about her face, but I can’t place it.

“Why not? What’s going on?”

“Because—“ she stops mid-sentence, dropping her knees from the bench to the ground and clutching the left side of her forehead as she winces.

“Do you have a headache? Are you sick?” If she’s not already sick, sitting in the rain like this is a good way to change that. I reach my hand to her forehead to see if she’s running a fever or something, but she slaps it away.

“I said stay away!” she screams, her eye bloodshot, her thick mascara running down her cheek.

“Okay, okay,” I assure her, pulling back with my hands in the air. I can feel people’s eyes being drawn towards us, like a couple quarreling in a crowded restaurant. “But why are you just sitting out here in the rain?”

“I…” She stops for a moment, rubbing the left side of her forehead again with a sharp inhalation. “I was waiting for you to come by.” Wow, that raises so many questions, but I’d rather not ask them all while the rain’s still pouring down over our heads.

“Come on,” I urge her, locking her arm in mine. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else.” She doesn’t resist.

———

Since most classes are done for the day, the hallway on the first floor of the math department’s building is practically deserted. Kiyomi, still dripping wet, and I hide out in a small corner at the end of the hall, occupied only by a vending machine. I buy a pair of TaP Sodas, tossing one at Kiyomi, before we sit down on the floor to talk.

“Kiyomi, you can’t do this,” I start, straight to the point.

“Do what?” she asks innocently, punctuated by the popping of her soda can’s top.

“I knew you six months ago for like, two weeks. We were barely even friends. And today you show up, crying alone in the rain, saying you were waiting for me? What is going on?” I worry that my bluntness is going to hit a nerve with her, make her angry at me, but she just sobs into her sleeve pathetically.

“I know,” she whimpers. “I know, but I don’t… I don’t know where else to go. I don’t _have_ anywhere else to go.” There’s one Yu in my head telling me that the correct response is to say that I, too, am not a place for her to turn. And yet another part, louder and stronger, refuses to be that cold to someone coming to me for help. I’m still unsure if that’s a virtue or flaw.

“Don’t you have an entire little world you could be in?” I ask. There are many other questions I’d like to ask, and that one isn’t even on the top of the list, but I’ll spare her an interrogation. I don’t want to kick her too hard while she’s down.

“I don’t want to be there. Not right now.” I can imagine reasons why.

“But if you came to meet me, then why were you telling me to stay away earlier?”

“Because I’m scared,” she speaks under her breath, barely audible.

“Of what, me?”

“No,” she replies, clinching her fist. “I’m scared of me. I’m a fucking monster. I shouldn’t even exist.”

“Hey, that’s not—“

“What,” she interrupts me, “are you gonna say it’s not true? Don’t patronize me. You know you’re better off as far away from me as possible. I was telling you to stay away for your own sake.”

She shuts me down completely. She’s right. All she ever did was drag me down. I don’t say that of course, but I don’t know what else _to_ say. Fortunately for me, a student opens the door next to us and walks in, giving me an excuse to keep quiet until he’s left earshot. The most painfully awkward moment passes until the student’s footsteps stop echoing down the hall. Once the coast is clear, Kiyomi breaks the silence.

“As long as I’m alive, I’m just going to bring trouble wherever I go. I can’t help it. I can’t…. I can’t control it. It’s just who I am. No,” she preempts me, somehow sensing I was about to say something, “you don’t understand. I’m stuck like this.”

“If I don’t understand, then help me understand,” I argue, pausing for a drink. “No one’s hopeless. No one. If you don’t like who you are, you can change if you truly want to. I fully believe that.”

“It’s not a matter of what I want,” she retorts. “I—“ She stops mid-sentence, once more clutching her forehead in agony.

“What’s going on?” I wait for an answer, but she doesn’t respond. Her breathing becomes deep and labored for a moment, but she eventually collects herself.

“Please,” she pleads, dodging my question, “please believe me. I know I’m not making a lot of sense but I can’t explain it any better right now.” Her voice becomes incredibly soft and quiet; I can barely hear her. “And I know you don’t trust me, and you probably shouldn’t, but I also know you’re the only person who can help me.”

So she came here to see me, but thinks I should stay away from her for my own good; she needs me to help her, but admits she’s untrustworthy; and she knows she makes no sense, but doesn’t know how to make more sense. Her sales pitch couldn’t be worse, yet beneath her contradictions and confusion I can make out the sincerity in her desperation. I can’t bring myself to push her away.

“So what do you need from me?” I give in.

“Just… company for a little while. And somewhere to stay.”

“I can do the first one, but I don’t know about the second. You really don’t have a dorm or anything? Do you even actually go to this school?” She just keeps her head down, which is answer enough in itself. I sigh. “Even if I wanted to, the dorm staff aren’t gonna like having a girl staying in a boys’ dorm, and Yosuke hates you.”

“Do you want to?” she asks.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” She stays silent; why would she ask a question when she already knows the answer, and hearing it would just upset her more? “It doesn’t matter. I’ll do what I can. You can at least sleep on my couch for the night.”

And then, out of nowhere, she laughs. It’s a soft laugh, crossed with tears, but it seems happy nonetheless. “Happy,” it occurs to me, is a word I’ve never once been able to describe Kiyomi as before. She rests her forehead on my shoulder.

“You’re such an idiot,” she cries, “still trying to help trash like me. I’m so glad you’re an idiot.”

“Uh… thanks.”

———

“Well, here we are. Make yourself at home.”

As expected, Yosuke’s at tutoring when Kiyomi and I arrive at the dorm. So I slip off my shoes and turn a light on before taking a seat on the couch, taking my phone out of my pocket to place on the coffee table. Meanwhile Kiyomi struggles to take off her giant lace-up boots, which I can’t imagine are comfortable to wear all the time. She must be committed to her style. Once she’s finally taken them off, the loss of her shoes’ platforms cost her at least five centimeters in height. It’s striking how small she is without them.

For a while she just wanders around the living room, taking in the sights. Periodically she’ll pick up an object and examine it with fascination, like a child. I’m a man who counts among his closest friends a giant stuffed bear suit that grew a human body and even I think this girl’s bizarre.

After looking over everything in the kitchen, she comes and takes a seat on the couch next to me. She leans forwards and picks up a game controller on the coffee table, holding it with one hand and pressing each button with the other.

“What is this?” She turns to me expectantly.

“Uh, a game controller?” 

“A game co— ugh, what does it do, though?” She continues poking at every button and stick on the controller searching for clues to this non-mystery.

“It controls games,” I answer flatly. “Have you never seen a game controller before?” I think that’s a pretty fair question for me to ask. As per usual, she dodges answering, instead tossing the controller back on the coffee table in frustration. What did I get myself into by letting her come over? I already regret this.

Perhaps startled by the noise of the controller hitting the table, the kitten emerges from underneath the chair where she was hiding. She looks up at Kiyomi, and their eyes meet. The kitten freezes in place, deer-in-headlights style, as Kiyomi extends her hand.

“Hey, come here,” Kiyomi calls out to the kitten.

“Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t come,” I warn Kiyomi. “She’s pretty shy around… people…“ Even as I talk, the kitten steps forward and rubs her head against Kiyomi’s hand affectionately, as Kiyomi scratches the kitten’s head in turn.

Kiyomi moves her hand to her lap and lightly taps her leg to signal the kitten to hop up, but the kitten’s still a little too weak to jump that high. So the kitten instead unsuccessfully attempts to climb Kiyomi’s leg, only succeeding at scratching up Kiyomi’s thigh-highs. But Kiyomi doesn’t get angry, she just laughs and picks the kitten up. If Yosuke tried that, the kitten would hiss and struggle, but she seems perfectly calm in Kiyomi’s hands. Kiyomi sets the kitten in her lap, and the kitten briefly kneads Kiyomi’s legs before curling up in a ball.

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” Kiyomi says, continuing to pet her.

“Only since this week. She’s a stray I found wandering campus,” I explain.

“Does she have a name?”

“No, not yet. I’m still not totally sure I’m gonna keep her.”

“She’s cute,” Kiyomi states simply. 

“I didn’t know you were a cat person,” I laugh.

“Huh? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s not you. I was remembering something Yosuke said. He said Chie and I broke up because I’m a cat person and she’s a dog person.”

“That’s not funny,” she echoes.

“It sort of is, just because it’s such a stupid thing to say. Actually, it bothered me at the time.”

“Is that why you actually broke up?” Kiyomi asks, and I can’t tell if she sincerely doesn’t know the answer.

“No, of course not,” I reply. “We just kind of… drifted apart, and I kept shutting myself out from her. I dunno. Maybe I took her for granted. But I thought we had a ‘bond that can never be broken.’”

“Tsch,” Kiyomi scoffs, never taking her eye off the kitten, “that’s bullshit. A bond that can never be broken? There’s no such thing.”

“That’s a cynical thing to say,” I retort.

“No, it’s the truth. You don’t even have to break a bond to ruin it. Bonds are super fragile. They rot all by themselves if you leave them alone. You’ve got to put effort and attention into a bond to keep it alive. The moment you stop doing that, it starts dying.” Shit. Talk about opening up the wound. The worst part is, I know she’s right.

“Sounds like you’ve got some experience with that,” I reply.

“You could say that.” She tilts her head to look at me with her one grey eye, and suddenly I feel immensely uncomfortable. I’m not entirely sure why, but I hurry to think of a reason to step out of the room.

“Uh, I’m gonna go put my phone on the charger, I’ll be right back,” I deflect, quickly getting up and heading to my bedroom. It’s only after I make it to my bedroom that I realize I left my phone on the coffee table, thus trapping myself in the most obvious lie ever told. My only chance of not being caught is if, in her weird lack of worldly knowledge, she doesn’t actually know what a phone is.

So I just sit in my bedroom, biding time in the hopes that it fools her into thinking I am actually doing something. After a few minutes I step back out to see her holding the kitten up to her face, admiring it. The entrance to my bedroom is behind the couch, so I don’t think she’s noticed I’m back in the room. Her gaze remains fixed upon the cat. So, curious as to what Kiyomi does when I’m not watching, I just stand there for a moment. Soon she speaks to the kitten, quietly.

“Someone threw you away too, didn’t they?”

I knock my knuckles twice against the wall, startling Kiyomi into dropping the kitten, who quickly scurries away to the kitchen. Kiyomi turns around and faces me, furious.

“You stupid idiot! Say something when you come into the room!”

———

Normally, had Yosuke been home, I would’ve cooked dinner, but in his absence I just order Chinese take-out for Kiyomi and myself. Once we’ve stuffed our faces we sit back on the couch as the TV spouts nonsense for a while. After an hour or so of this, Kiyomi reaches for the TV remote and turns it off. So she knows what that does, at least. With the television silenced, the only thing to be heard over the sound of the falling rain is the gentle purr of the kitten nestled in Kiyomi’s lap. She inches closer to me on the couch.

“Hey,” she whispers, “aren’t you…” She pauses.

“What’s up?”

“Aren’t you going to ask who I am? Why I have that notebook? I mean… you must know I’m not normal.” Ah, so she knew what questions I was holding back before.

“Would you give me a straight answer even if I did?” I sigh. She casts her gaze downward, petting the cat compulsively.

“Even so, even knowing that something’s strange about me, even knowing I’ve been terrible for you, you brought me here anyway. Why? How can you be so selfless?” Her question strikes at something I’ve been thinking about since talking to Nomura-san the other day. No, even before that. Since I never really faced my Shadow, I’ve had to come to terms with the negative parts of myself the old-fashioned way, you see.

“It’s not selfless of me at all. It’s extremely selfish,” I answer.

“What do you mean?”

“I… need to be needed. It’s extremely satisfying to me when other people depend on me. I think I love taking care of other people because it keeps me from figuring out what I want for myself. I can just become whoever the other person needs me to be.”

That’s what I realized about that dream from last month, too. It’s not that other people project whoever they want me to be onto me, no, it’s the other way around. I wear the mask of whoever they want me to be, but without a mask on I’m faceless. My display is blank. I don’t know who to be when I’m alone, or what I want for myself. More than anything, that’s what I lost when I left Inaba: purpose.

“God, you’re so stupid,” Kiyomi insists, resting her head on my shoulder. “That doesn’t make you selfish.” I’m not going to argue it with her, but it is comforting to hear her say that, in some small way. “I’m the selfish one. I know I shouldn’t exist—“

“Stop saying that,” I tell her.

“You don’t know, Narukami-kun. All I’ve wanted for the past three years is to die. But I thought maybe… maybe trash like me could still be saved.” I feel like I should rouse her up with some speech about how she’s not trash, how there’s still hope for her, but I fear it would feel hollow. I still don’t know exactly what she’s been through that’s made her like this. So we just sit there, quietly, her head on my shoulder, my head against hers, and the kitten snuggled in her lap. Eventually, I can tell Kiyomi’s dozed off. Just as I’m about to pass out as well, my phone lights up on the coffee table. I carefully reach for it, trying not to disturb Kiyomi, and read the message from Yosuke on the screen.

“Sry, not gonna be home 2nite. Talked 2 Chie tho, she said she will if u will.”

Shit. I place my phone back on the table, accidentally dropping it a little too hard so that it makes a thunking sound against the wood. That’s when I notice something else - how quiet it is. I look outside through the window.

The rain stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for reading chapter… oh my god, sixteen of Memories of the City. As of this chapter this thing is over 50k words long. To everyone who has stuck with it this far, I appreciate it very much. Thinking about it, while the format is very much like a novel at this point, I almost mentally write it more like a serialized monthly manga, or a television show.
> 
> I think, clearly, the main goal of this chapter was to really hit on some aspects of Kiyomi that hadn’t been deeply explored until now. There were hints dropped, certainly, but this is the first time her whole façade has really been shattered. Beneath her feisty, cynical exterior she’s actually incredibly broken and self-loathing. Something clearly messed her up badly in the past that she’s still trying to recover from. I was very hesitant about including the line about her longing to die - I want to treat the subject of suicide very delicately, and I certainly do not advocate it. At the same time, the fact that she feels this is way is critical to understanding why Kiyomi is the way she is.
> 
> One thing I’m constantly worried about is making Kiyomi seem too much like a typical fetish-fuel tsundere. I deliberately evoke a lot of the same sort of speech patterns (literally her first ever words to Yu were, essentially, “i-it’s not like I’m here for you, b-baka” - which we now have reason to suspect weren’t even true), but I want to emphasize that she acts this way because she’s broken and scared of people. I hate to use the word ‘deconstruction’ because I think it’s often used in an immensely pretentious way, but it’s the best way I can describe my goals for Kiyomi’s tsundere-esque mannerisms.
> 
> Another major aspect of this chapter was elaborating on a theme first touched on way back in chapter three, but I’ve kind of alluded to it since then. Yu finds fulfillment in helping others and being depended on, but in the absence of other people in his life, he has no direction of his own. I try to extrapolate a lot of character flaws for Yu out of gameplay elements in P4, since he has very little development otherwise, and this is basically just his status as a player-surrogate blank slate given form as a character flaw. In the same way, his belief in ‘bonds that can’t be broken’ thing is built on the way Social Links worked in the original game, where once you max someone out, that’s it! That’s all you gotta do. They’re your (girl)friend for life. It doesn’t really work that way, does it?
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from, of course, the Adele song of the same name, from the album _21_. Cause there’s a side to you that I never knew, and all the things you’d say, they were never true… that, and the rain imagery in the song fits well with what I’m going for, I think. As always, I love to hear from readers, so please leave me a comment here or find me over at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com - and in the meantime, I’ll see you again next chapter.
> 
> \- Akinari


	17. Paper Thin Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rise Kujikawa can't seem to find quite the right balance between her professional and personal lives.

**December 4, 2014**

I wish I could visit the countryside more. You’d think a girl like me would’ve seen tons of places in Japan, and I guess I have, but it’s usually through the window of a hotel room. When I’m on the road there’s so little free time. We’ve gotta drive from city to city, then check into a hotel, then do soundcheck at the venue. And when I’m not touring, I’ve got photoshoots, and movies, and interviews, and ugh! They just keep coming!

Right now though, I’m just sitting on the tour bus, staring out the window. We’re driving through a town that I’ve probably already seen, since I’ve been on this drive a million times, but I never really paid attention to it before. The trees, the gossiping people, the beautiful view of the snow-capped mountains, the river running through it…

“Rise, are you with us?” Inoue-san catches me off-guard.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I didn’t even notice him trying to talk to me.

“It’s okay,” he reassures me with a smile. Inoue-san never stays mad at me. “We’ll be arriving in Saitama in about an hour and a half, so if you’re feeling tired, now’s a good time to take a quick nap.”

“I’m not that sleepy,” I laugh, “just super bored. Where are we right now, anyway?”

“Um, I believe we’re in a town in the Gunma prefecture,” Inoue answers hesitantly. “I’m not sure of the name.”

“Kiryu,” calls the bus driver from the front of the bus.

“Oh, well, there you have it,” Inoue laughs sheepishly. “Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious,” I reply, turning around. “It reminds me of Inaba.”

“Yes, I suppose it is a bit like your hometown,” he says as he takes a seat next to me. “Are you feeling homesick? I hope you’re not planning on taking another hiatus soon. We’ve got a very busy schedule, you know.”

“Of course not, silly,” I giggle. “Anyway, where are the other girls?”

“They’re in the lounge behind the bunks, I believe.”

“Aw, no wonder I’m bored, I’m all up here by myself! I’m gonna go hang out with them.” I hop up from the couch and head to the rear of the bus.

Ever since I got started in the idol business, I’ve been a solo artist. I have backup dancers on stage, of course. We aren’t an official idol group like Kanamin Kitchen or anything though. The agency wants my cute face front and center. That doesn’t mean the other girls don’t deserve respect and recognition. They’re all super talented at what they do.

So it’s really upsetting when I walk through the bunk area and open the door to the lounge at the back of the tour bus only to find three of my girls sitting at a table, all bunched up around the fourth member. She’s burying her head between her arms on the table and crying, her long black hair curtaining the tabletop. The other girls try helplessly to comfort her.

“Shiori-chan?” I ask the sobbing girl, hurrying to join her. “What happened? What’s wrong?” She doesn’t answer though, she just cries more.

“Her boyfriend broke up with her,” Akane answers for her.

“Over the phone?”

“No,” Midori replies softly, “an email.”

“Wow, that’s so rude. You don’t deserve that, Shiori-chan,” I reassure the sobbing girl.

“He said…” Shiori tries to speak for herself, but struggles to get her words out through her tears. “He said there was another girl, and he couldn’t tell her he had a girlfriend because we’re supposed to be a secret so I don’t get in trouble, and he… he…” She doesn’t have to finish. I know what happened after that.

“What a terrible liar. That’s not even a good excuse,” Akane chimes in, standing up to let me sit next to Shiori.

“Yeah, he sounds like a total jerk,” I agree, putting my arm around Shiori. “Hey, I know this really big, mean, tough guy back home. If you tell me where your ex lives I’ll have my friend go beat the snot out of him for you.” Kanji wouldn’t hurt a fly, obviously, but she doesn’t know that. Still, that makes her laugh.

“Thank you, Kujikawa-san,” she murmurs, “but I’ll be okay.” She sits up and puts her head on my shoulder, her big hazel eyes dripping tears on my dress.

“How about this? Tonight, once we’re at the hotel, we can all meet up in my room and have a big party, and we can help you forget all about him, okay?” Shiori smiles for the first time and nods, and the other girls nod too. “Don’t you worry, Shiori. Rise-senpai’s got your back.”

———

I open the window curtains, and the view of Saitama from the seventeenth floor blows me away. The nearly-full moon soars perfectly above the horizon of the neon city like a painting. At times like these it really hits me how lucky a small-town girl like me is to be standing in a hotel suite like this.

“Ahh,” Haruka yawns from the bedroom, falling on my bed, “it’s no fair! Your room is so much bigger than ours are, Kujikawa-senpai.” Between Haruka, Akane, Midori, and Shiori, I have four backup dancers, so the agency splits them into two two-bed rooms.

“I know,” I sigh, “I talked to Inoue-san about getting you all separate rooms but it’s not his call. I’d get you all suites like this if I could.” Haruka just keeps rolling around on my king bed.

“So what’s the plan?” Akane asks from the sofa, sitting next to Shiori who’s sipping a can of green tea.

“Well, I was thinking we should stay at the hotel for a bit, maybe go grab dinner up at one of the hotel restaurants, and then…” I drop my voice to a whisper. “Then once Inoue-san and the others are asleep, we sneak out of the hotel.”

“Won’t we get in trouble if someone finds out?” Midori worries, always playing the good girl.

“Oh, come on,” Haruka groans, leaping up from the bed and brushing her short hair out of her eyes, “it won’t be a problem because no one will find out. Besides, if Kujikawa-senpai’s with us, Inoue-san won’t do anything. He’d never get her in trouble cause he’s too sweet on her.”

“Hey,” I protest, “what are you trying to say?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Haruka apologizes, “I just mean he’s got a soft spot for you, that’s all.” I can’t deny it, he obviously does.

“Girls like us get enough nasty rumors spread about us as it is,” Akane adds. “We don’t need to spread them ourselves. Imagine what Shiori would’ve gone through if people knew she had a boyfriend.” Shiori chokes on her tea for a moment before placing her can gently on the ground.

“I still think he might tell people about us,” she whimpers, visibly tensing up. “I thought I could trust him, but now I don’t know anymore. He could ruin everything.”

“He won’t ruin anything,” I state confidently, “and if he tries, I have your back. We all do.” She perks up a little and sips her tea again. “There’s no one in here you can’t trust. Actually, can you guys keep a secret?”

“Of course,” Midori says.

“I’m really serious, this can’t leave this room, okay?” I feel goosebumps just considering telling them this.

“Spit it out already,” Haruka laughs, “you know we won’t talk.”

“I actually have a boyfriend, too.” My hands tense up even after I’ve already admitted it. The only people I’ve told until now are my parents. “So I kinda know what you’re going through, Shiori. You’ve gotta be super careful.”

“Whoa, you’ve got a boyfriend, Kujikawa-senpai?” Haruka yells too loudly, making me shush her. “Who is he? What’s he like?”

“Is he that old senpai of yours from high school?” Akane asks, tilting her head so one long bang covers her eye. She knows too much about me.

“No,” I giggle, “I wish. He’s a really sweet guy I met in Osaka a few months ago while I was out shopping. He goes to college out there.”

“I always thought you’d go out with someone as famous as you are,” Shiori chimes in for the first time.

“No way,” I deny. “Actually, one of the reasons I liked him so much when we started going out is because he had no idea I was an idol until I told him so.”

“Must be hard to find a guy our age who doesn’t know who you are,” Akane says.

“How do you even find time for a relationship with how busy you are?” Midori wonders. “My schedule isn’t nearly as full as yours, but I can’t imagine having a boyfriend. I’d have to be apart from them way too much.”

“It’s so hard! I have to sneak in phone calls and texts and video calls whenever I get a chance. You know how we have next week off from touring? After our show tomorrow I’m flying out to Osaka and staying with him at his university dorm for a few days. He’s taking me to dinner at this little ramen shop we both love.”

“I can just imagine what must happen when super-idol Rise Kujikawa walks into some small-time ramen shop,” Haruka says.

“I have to dress up and disguise myself a bit, obviously, but it’s not that silly. When I went on hiatus a few years ago I was working in my hometown at my grandma’s tofu shop. Can you imagine me in an apron serving ganmodoki?”

“Not with your cooking skills I can’t,” Akane teases.

“Hey! I can make some killer tofu dishes. It’s just everything else I have trouble with.” Akane puts the back of her hand to her mouth to hold back a laugh. “A-anyway,” I stutter, “enough about me! We’re all here for Shiori. So, Shiori-chan, after dinner, what do you want to do?”

“What do I want to do?” Shiori asks herself blankly, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, once we sneak out of the hotel. Is there anywhere you want to go?”

“Oh, we should go to a movie!” Haruka chimes in uninvited.

“She was asking Shiori-san.” Midori frowns at Haruka as Shiori stays silent for a moment, still gazing up at the ceiling as if she could count the stars through it. Finally, she answers.

“I want to get a karaoke booth.”

“I’m an awful singer, so I’d rather not,” Midori complains.

“No one expects everyone to be good at karaoke. Laughing at terrible singers is half the fun! I’m totally down, Shiori,” Haruka says cheerfully.

“I’ll go, too. Besides, it’s not a competition. We all know Risette here would destroy us at singing anyway,” Akane points out.

“Oh yeah, no contest,” I agree with no modesty.

“I-I…” Shiori stumbles over her own words, turning her gaze to the floor. “I think I’m pretty good at singing.”

“Really?” Haruka turns to Shiori. “Well, let’s hear it, girl. Give us a taste.”

Everyone turns to stare at Shiori, who curls up in her seat into a little ball of embarrassment. She looks me straight in the eye and I smile back at her, hoping to give her some courage. Finally she stands up and walks to the front of the room, pulling up a song on her phone to sing along to, and I can hardly believe the next thing that happens. She _totally nails_ a performance of this popular Korean pop song, complete with a full dance routine. Her nailing the choreography doesn’t surprise me - she’s my backup dancer, after all. But I never knew she had such a voice.

Once she’s done, the rest of us just sit in awe at how great a performance we just saw. Shiori starts blushing furiously, and it snaps to me that all of us just staring and not saying anything is probably making her super uncomfortable. So I speak for the group.

“Wow, Shiori, that was totally amazing. Maybe _you_ should be the idol here.”

**December 7, 2014**

A dull _clunk_ wakes me up - it came from right next to my bed. I’m still super sleepy so it takes me a second, but I realize my phone’s buzzing on the floor. I guess it vibrated right off the bedside table. I groggily pick it up by waving my arm around blindly near the floor until I find it, and the screen says I’m getting a call from Inoue-san. It’s seven in the morning and I was up late so I really don’t want to answer it right now, but if Inoue’s calling me it’s probably important, so I pick up.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Rise-san, is that you?”

“It is. Good morning, Inoue-san,” I yawn, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry about it. What’s up?” There’s an awkward pause.

“We really need to talk. Are you alone?”

I look over to the other side of the bed, where Takumi-kun is still sleeping like a baby.

“Yeah, it’s just me. What’s going on, is something wrong?”

“Oh, you still haven’t heard then. Where are you right now?” It’s not like Inoue-san to act so weird. I wish he’d just tell me what’s happening.

“I’m in Osaka right now visiting a friend, why?” I hear a voice on the other end that’s not Inoue’s say “that’s not good.” I better get an explanation for that soon.

“Well, Rise-san, I’m not sure how to say this. Last night some photographs were published on some gossip websites. They claim to be photos of you in front of some dormitory at Osaka University being… close with some boy. The girl in these pictures isn’t really dressed like you, and her hair’s done differently, so there’s still some doubt, but we need to get out ahead of this.”

They can’t be real. I mean, I _did_ kiss Takumi-kun outside the dorm last night, but no one knew I was there and I was really well disguised. I’ve gone out like that tons of times with him and never gotten recognized.

“Could you send me the pictures?” I ask.

“Yes, they should actually be headed to your email as we speak.” Yep, my phone gives me an email notification right when he says that. I open the email just to have my fears confirmed. Five pictures, all of me and Takumi-kun. My hands start shaking. I can barely hold my phone.

“Rise-san,” Inoue-san’s voice calls from the phone’s speaker, “this is important, so I need you to be honest. The girl in these pictures… is it you?” Even if I want to answer my lips won’t move. I carefully bring the phone back to my ear. “Rise-san?” he asks again. It takes me way too long but eventually I manage to answer.

“Yes, that’s me.” That voice behind Inoue-san says “shit.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since July,” I answer truthfully. Inoue-san sighs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to invade your personal life. In any case, we will do what we can to keep this from blowing up too much. You aren’t the first idol to have a boyfriend on the side, so we’ve got some ideas on how to deal with this. In this instance, you covered yourself up pretty well, so we can get away with denying it altogether. Whoever took the photos censored the boy’s face, too, so he shouldn’t be too much of a problem. You are very lucky, but you need to be careful. Even if we cover this up, the fact remains that someone found you. Does anyone else know about your relationship with this boy?”

“My parents,” I reply, “but they know not to tell anyone. They don’t like him too much, but they don’t want to hurt my career because of it, either.”

“Is that all?” Now that I think about it, there’s one other group of people I’ve told.

“Well,” I hesitate to answer, “I told the backup dancers about him the other day, too. But they wouldn’t tell anyone, either! We’re all super close, I know they wouldn’t do that.”

“I know you trust them, Rise-san, and I trust your judgment as well. However, there’s only two real possibilities for how this happened. The first is that you were followed, but based on these photos, I think most of us here at the agency agree that would’ve been difficult. The alternative is that someone tipped them off. Either way, we can’t let this continue to happen.”

“I understand.” That’s all I can think to say right now.

“I’ll be in touch if there’s anything more we need from you. In the meantime, please be careful, especially if you’re still with this boy.” And with that, Inoue-san hangs up the phone.

I put my phone back on my bedside table and turn my head to find Takumi-kun sitting up in bed. He scoots forward and wraps his big arms around my neck.

“What was that about?” he asks, laying his head on my shoulder.

“Someone caught us.”

“Huh?”

“There’s photos online of us outside this building last night, and somehow they knew it was me.”

“What? Can I see?” I pull up the photos on my phone and pass it to him.

“They blurred out your face at least, but sites are saying that girl is me. My manager was really worried about it. I could get in big trouble.”

He keeps swiping through the pictures, and suddenly we hear chanting coming from outside the window.

_“Ri-se-chi! Ri-se-chi! Ri-se-chi!”_

“Oh no,” I groan as Takumi-kun walks over to the window. I stay put, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of me through the window.

“Damn, there’s a giant crowd in front of the entrance. It looks like security’s having to hold people back.”

“People must’ve figured out where those photos were taken,” I realize. “How am I supposed to get out of here without being seen? My disguise outfit is useless now.”

“I don’t know,” Takumi begins, “I wouldn’t mind you staying right there in my bed—“ I throw a pillow at his stupid perv face before he can finish. “Hey!”

“I’m serious! I was going to head to the mall while you were in class, and we were going to go out to dinner, and now I’m stuck here until everything quiets down.”

Takumi yawns and walks back over to the bed, plopping down next to me. He wraps one arm around me and holds my hand with the other.

“Don’t worry, Rise. I’ve got a plan.”

“What is it?”

“So I’ve got two classes this morning, and then two this afternoon, but I’ve got about three hours between those two blocks. So, I want you to go online and look at some stores at the mall nearby, and pick out a new outfit for you to hide in. You can pick some hair and makeup stuff too if you need. After my morning classes, I’ll swing by here and get a list from you, and then I’ll go to the mall and pick it up and bring it back here. How’s that sound?”

“That works, I guess, but it still means I’ve gotta sit around here all morning,” I pout.

“I know, it sucks. I don’t think there’s much we can do about that big crowd out front other than hope they go away. But if we can disguise you, then you can sneak out the back door of the dorm and go do whatever you want for the rest of the afternoon, okay? And I’ll take you to dinner after my afternoon classes.”

“Okay.” I nod.

He gives me a quick kiss and heads to the bathroom to take a shower before class, while I crawl back under the covers on his bed and stare at the ceiling.

What a way to wake up.

———

“You know, those glasses look beautiful on you.”

Takumi-kun pauses partway up the long, winding trail leading to Mount Wakakusa’s peak, looking lovingly into my eyes. There’s nowhere romantic to go in Osaka, or at least, nowhere _I_ think is romantic. So after an amazing dinner we took the train all the way to Nara, and then took a bus partway here. I’ve never been here, but Takumi promised me it’d be worth the trip, so I’m holding him to that.

“T-thank you,” I reply, trying so hard not to laugh. “I just thought they’d be useful for my disguise.”

“They look so natural on you, like they were made for you.”

“Oh, you noticed? A friend made them just for me, actually. I bet he’d be beary happy to hear you say that.”

“He must be a master craftsman. Still, I’d rather see those big brown eyes of yours,” he smooth-talks me, reaching over and gently pulling the swirly glasses off my face by their plastic nose-guard.

“Aw, now my face is all exposed,” I complain. “If we get caught and more photos of us leak, it’s gonna be all your fault.”

“Or maybe you’ll catch a cold without your nose-guard,” he says, his face as straight as ever. A sense of humor’s important to me in a guy.

We keep treading the path until we finally reach the top of the hill, and even as the wind blows my hair in my eyes I’m still struck by the sight. The hill overlooks all of Nara, the city lights shining like a reflection of the stars above. While Takumi takes a seat on the ground, I just stand there awestruck, taking in the rustling of the grass and the skittering of the wildlife.

“So, what do you think?” Takumi asks.

“It’s incredible,” I respond, sitting next to him and resting my head on his shoulder.

“I bet you’ve never seen a view quite like it.”

“Back home in Inaba, there’s a hill with a view of the town. My senpai and I would go up there sometimes. It’s got nothing on this, though.”

“When I was a kid,” Takumi begins, petting my hair, “my parents would take me up here in the summer and we’d have a picnic for dinner and watch the sunset. I wish the days weren’t so short this time of year so you could see what that’s like.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” I respond wistfully, imagining the scene.

“It would be even more beautiful with you here to enjoy it with me.” I threw him a softball and he knocked it out of the park. “Maybe next summer.”

“Oh, but next summer seems like so far away. And I’m gonna be so busy! The agency’s already got two movies lined up for me to shoot over the summer.”

“You’ve always got a busy schedule. I’m sure we’ll find time,” he comforts me.

“There’s still so many things I want to do that I can never find time for,” I sigh. “I want to go to college one day, and I want to settle down somewhere.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me about where we’ll be settling down,” he says.

“My my, who said I’d be settling down with _you_?” I laugh. “Well, I’d want it to be somewhere in the country. Somewhere like Inaba. And I’d want a nice, big house with a big yard, not too close to our neighbors. And a dog! I want a big snuggly dog, like a golden retriever.”

“So you’re a dog person,” Takumi notes.

“Yup! And once I’m done with this idol stuff, I just wanna get away from the spotlight. Then all I’ll want to worry about is taking care of my wonderful husband.”

“Slow down there, Rise-chan, we haven’t even been going out six months,” Takumi chuckles.

“There you go again, thinking I’m talking about you,” I tease, hugging him tightly. “Anyway, I know all that probably sounds really stupid, but it’s what I’ve really wanted to do for a long time.”

“So why don’t you?” It’s a simple question that hits me in the chest like a gunshot.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been an idol for six years or so at this point, right? Haven’t you made enough money to afford college?”

“That’s true, but…”

“If you wanted to go to college, then settle down, it just seems to me like there’s nothing stopping you.”

“It’s complicated,” I say without thinking. It _is_ complicated, but I can’t think of how to explain it right now. There’s just a gut feeling, you know? Something I can’t put into words, holding me back. But Takumi-kun doesn’t question it any further. He keeps petting my hair, looping it around his fingers, running his hand down my back.

“Wherever you want to go,” he says, “or whatever road you take from here, I’ll be with you.” I look up at him and close my eyes, locking his lips with mine as we fall to the grass beneath the starlit sky. At least for this moment, I can forget. I can forget about that phone call this morning. I can forget about the uncertainty the future brings. I can forget about my problems and my friends’. At least for this moment, Takumi is my escape, and _I am free._

But the next time I see Mount Wakakusa, it’s up in flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise.
> 
> If I had to point to one thing I would change about _Memories of the City_ , it’s writing it in first person from Yu’s point of view. When I wrote chapter one I really just wrote it as a drabble, basically. I didn’t really plan for it to be anything more than a short portrait of Yu in college being angsty, and for that the first-person perspective worked perfectly. But after a while I felt super constrained by that decision - a major conceit of the story is that Yu isn’t up to a whole lot and has shut himself away from a lot of his friends, which presents several problems. For one, it really limits the kinds of stories I can tell while keeping the story in his point of view, and consequently it makes it difficult to keep things interesting. Two, it makes it difficult to show what other characters are up to.
> 
> So I pondered for quite a while the best way to solve this issue. If I could start over from the beginning, I’d probably just write the whole thing in some form of third-person subjective POV from the start. However, I felt that switching to such a perspective partway through the story would be super jarring, and rewriting all the previous chapters to be in such a POV would be a huge undertaking. So the solution I decided on, as you probably noticed reading the chapter, is to simply switch perspectives.
> 
> So why switch at this point in the story in particular? Well, all this Rise business is going to set up something I needed to happen before the main plot could move forward, for one. I was originally going to have all this happen off-screen and have the reader only see the end result of it, but I thought doing it like this would be much more fun. Plus, writing a Rise story gives me the freedom to do something completely different from anything else in _MotC_ so far, which is hugely refreshing. After so many chapters about a lonely dude being angsty it’s a nice change of pace to hop into the shoes of a bubbly pop star and her dance crew, haha. Even though the setting and characters are different, by the time this mini-arc wraps up I hope you’ll agree that it still feels like _Memories of the City_.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the song of the same name by Modest Mouse, off their album _The Moon and Antarctica_. To tell the truth, any number of songs from that album could’ve been the name of this chapter. “Perfect Disguise” and “A Different City” were both candidates, for instance. I still wonder if Perfect Disguise would’ve been better, to be honest.
> 
> As always, I really appreciate any and all feedback posted here, and you can also reach me at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. Thanks so much for reading this latest chapter, and if all goes well I’ll see you next chapter.
> 
> \- Akinari


	18. Tiny Glass Houses All Tumbling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rise juggles complicated friendships, a long-distance relationship, and career troubles, all while someone's setting fire to Mount Wakakusa.

#### January 24, 2015

Just over a week after I finished up my last show of the tour in Yokohama, Takumi-kun and I are on the train once again. We’re headed back to Nara, where he’s taking me to have dinner with his parents. I’m lucky they like me more than my parents like him! (I think they’re mostly just impressed their son managed to hook up with such a superstar.) Anyway, Takumi-kun’s being really quiet for some reason. He’s usually pretty light-hearted and sociable, but right now he’s just staring off into space.

“Hey, Takumi-kun,” I whisper, “is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” he answers. Come on, that always means it’s something. I put my hand on top of his knee. “I’m just nervous,” he adds hesitantly, his heart-shaped jaw line clenching.

“Oh, your parents love me, we’ll be fine,” I laugh, but it doesn’t seem to lighten his mood at all.

“No, not that. I just mean…” He lowers his voice. “I’ve gotten paranoid lately, you know? What if someone’s following us? O-or watching us, right now?” He had to bring it up.

“We’ll be okay,” I try to cheer him up, though my frown probably gives me away. “I’ve had stalkers and paparazzi and stuff chasing me for years. It’s something you get used to.”

“Something you get _used to?_ ” Takumi looks at me, his soft brown eyes wide, as if I just said something ridiculous. I know the past few weeks have been rough on him. They’ve been hard on me, too. Yeah, I’m used to stalkers and stuff, it comes with the job, but what really hurt me is how people reacted to those photos. Even after the agency denied they were pictures of me, people were still harassing me and insulting me for weeks. People who consider themselves my fans. Even someone Senpai calls his friend. That hurt most of all.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize meekly, “I’m probably a little more high maintenance than you expected.”

“It’s okay for now,” he sighs, “but we can’t do this forever. Eventually the public’s going to know about us, whether we want them to or not.” He’s right. All these disguises and secret trips and whatnot are just a short-term way of making this work, but I don’t know how to fix that.

My train of thought gets totally derailed when I look out the window of the train to see a huge fire spreading across one of the mountains in the distance, fireworks igniting the sky above it. The flames devour the whole surface of the mountain, polluting the night sky with clouds of smoke. Thinking about it, the mountain overlooks Nara from a familiar position. I tug at Takumi’s shirt sleeve, never taking my eye off the sight.

“Hey, Takumi-kun,” I say hesitantly, pointing out the window, “isn’t that Mount Wakakusa?”

#### January 26, 2015

“Ah,” Inoue-san chuckles, “you got to see the Wakakusa Yamayaki.”

“You’ve heard of it?” I ask.

“Yes. I have family out in Nara, they took me to see it once for myself. Every year they close off the mountain for a while, and once the old grass has withered and died, they burn it all down and grow the grass anew. They make a whole festival out of it.”

“It really upset me,” I recall. “Takumi-kun and I went up to the top of the mountain back in December. I remember the view up being so pretty! Then suddenly the next time I come to visit, the whole thing’s burning down.”

“I think it’s a beautiful thing,” Inoue opines. “All that old, dried-up grass is getting cleared away to make way for new life.”

“Well, I didn’t like it,” I pout. “Anyway, I’m just happy some creep-o didn’t follow us around and post pictures everywhere. Poor Takumi’s all worried about that now whenever we go out.”

“The paparazzi are fickle and have short attention spans. Only that one set of photos got out, and they couldn’t even actually prove it was you. That’s the kind of news that gets flushed out of the news cycle as soon as something else distracts the public eye.” When he puts it that way, I suddenly feel so much more at ease. Inoue always knows how to cheer me up.

“I’m glad I can talk about this stuff with you now, Inoue-san. I felt terrible trying to keep this stuff even a secret from the agency.” I give him a warm smile, and he turns away. Aw, he’s embarrassed.

“W-well, we’re always here to help out our stars,” he stutters.

He and I talk a bit more about some upcoming jobs (I’ve got half a dozen TV appearances lined up this month) before I’ve gotta go — it’s almost the end of the day! But soon after I leave Inoue-san’s office, I run into an old coworker. Actually, it’s more like she runs into _me_ , since she turns around the corner so fast she smashes right into me and knocks us both on our butts.

“Oh no,” she whimpers, clutching her rear in pain, “I’m so sorry, so so sorry— oh, Rise-senpai!”

“Hello, Kanami,” I laugh it off, picking myself up off the floor. “It’s been a while!” She leaps up, brushing her legs off and adjusting the big clip in her thick brown hair.

“It has! How have you been? You just finished up your big tour, right?” She gives me a giant hug, so tight it’s honestly a little hard to breathe.

“I did, that’s why you probably haven’t seen me around the studio for a while,” I gasp. Finally she lets me out of her arms. “How about you? I bet you and your girls have been keeping busy.”

“We’ve been working on a new album, actually, so we don’t have any really big shows until that comes out this fall. I think Tomoe-san from my group’s in the studio working on it right now.” She reseats her glasses, which she just realized were sitting crooked on her nose. “I’ve still got a bunch of photoshoots and TV spots lined up, though! Anyway, I know it’s late. Were you about to head home for the day?”

“Yeah, I was just checking in with Inoue-san before heading back to my apartment,” I answer.

“Come keep me company in the dressing room!” She bounces in place cheerfully like she’s got springs in her heels. “I-I mean, if you don’t mind, of course. I’m about to leave too, so I won’t keep you too long.”

It’s been forever since I’ve seen Kanami, so we walk together to the dressing room behind the practice studio. The dressing room is filled only with quiet and the fading sunlight of dusk bleeding in through the upper windows, as all the other girls have already left the studio for the day. I take a seat at the fold-up table in the middle of the room while Kanami heads to the counter and starts stuffing makeup into her bag. 

“It’s so good to see you again,” she chirps cheerfully.

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too,” I grin through my half-truth. To be honest, I like Kanami, but she and I have always had a complicated friendship. I don’t know how to put it without sounding mean, but… A few years back when I was on hiatus, everyone was talking about how “fake” and “artificial” I was, and how down-to-Earth Kanami was. But come on, anyone who’s seen Kanami both off- and on-stage knows how _totally_ fake her stage persona is. She doesn’t even look like the same person. And even after I came back to showbiz, I’ve still never caught back up to her sales numbers. She’s Takura Productions’ cash cow, in more ways than one.

In other words, she’s the competition.

Still, when I’m actually around Kanami, she makes it so hard to hate her. She’s never been anything but kind to me. Sometimes I think that just makes me more bitter about it, like, _I want to hate you! Why won’t you be an awful, stuck-up, bratty person so I can justify being mad at you?_ I almost feel like no one could possibly be that nice, that it’s just another part of her act. Ugh, I know all that stuff I just said probably makes me sound like a complete jerk. Like I said, it’s complicated. I wish that I didn’t feel this way, that we could just be friends without any asterisks, but something about her rubs me the wrong way and always has.

Ever since a certain incident a few years ago, though, I’ve kept all this to myself. Kanami needs a friend, and even with all this bottled up in me, I’m not so mean a person that I can’t put it aside to be there for someone who needs help.

“I’ve seriously missed you around here,” she says with her face glowing with joy, totally oblivious to everything going through my head right now. “Kanamin Kitchen’s lineup keeps changing, and Takura keeps signing on new idols. I’m so shy around all these new people, so it’s nice to see a friendly familiar face. Especially when it’s the face of the super-incredible Rise-senpai!” She practically sings the last few words.

“Yeah, the idol business has really blown up, hasn’t it?” I agree, letting myself soak in the flattery. “I remember when I was little, being an idol seemed like a super big deal, like you had to be really talented and special. Now it seems like there’s tons of idols.”

“Right? I mean, I know there are idols around here that are older than me, but with all the new ones coming in all the time it just makes me feel like a big ol’ dinosaur sometimes! You’ve been here longer than me, so you probably feel totally ancient, huh?” Suddenly she drops her bag right to the floor and looks at me with apology written all over her face, waving her hands wildly. “I’m so sorry! That came out totally wrong! I didn’t mean it like that.” She falls to her knees and grovels shamefully.

Like I said: she rubs me the wrong way.

“Don’t worry about it,” I encourage her with a smile as I secretly add this to my list of things to hold a grudge about. “I know what you mean, but actually, we’re super lucky to have been here so long. A lot of these new idol groups won’t last nearly as long as we have. Plus, we get to work for an awesome production company, and not one of those shady places run by creepy old dudes that treat girls like…“ I almost say “like pieces of meat” before remembering I’m talking to the face of Kanamin Kitchen. “… like we’re totally disposable or something.”

Kanami picks herself and her bag up and walks over to the table, pouring herself a cup of water from the cooler. She plops down in the chair next to me, pulling what looks like a supplement bottle out of her bag.

“Yeah, we’ve been so fortunate,” she says almost wistfully, her eyes gazing upward distantly as if she can see through the ceiling. “I’ve heard so many horror stories about stuff idols go through at other agencies, like sexual harassment from their bosses and really one-sided contracts.” She turns to me. “Did you hear about that girl a year or two ago that had to shave her head and cry and apologize to her fans on video because she got caught having a boyfriend?”

“Y-yeah, I remember that,” I stutter awkwardly, biting my lip.

“It’s so horrible,” she continues, dumping a glucose tablet into her hand from its bottle. “Apparently other agencies’ contracts don’t even let them have relationships or anything. We’re so lucky to work for Takura Productions.” She pops the tablet in her mouth, chews it, and washes it back with water.

“Hey, Kanami, do you pay attention to celebrity gossip?” I ask.

“Nope, not one bit,” she shakes her head, “it’s too sad.”

“Me either,” I agree. I don’t know how you _could_ in this line of work, but I thought I’d ask. Anyway, that means she probably doesn’t know why I really didn’t need to be reminded of that girl who had to shave her head at this particular moment in my life.

Again, like I said: she always rubs me the wrong way.

“Sometimes I feel like people on those gossip shows and stuff look down on us,” Kanami goes on, her shoulders drooping, “like this is a job just any pretty girl could do. But I know you understand how hard and scary it can really be.” And I know Kanami probably knows it even better than I do. Suddenly her posture perks right up. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes for the third time, “I don’t mean to be so down! This job’s hard, but that’s why girls like us have to be there for each other, Rise-senpai. As long as we’ve got each other’s backs, we can get through whatever comes up.” She hugs me again from the side, her chin resting on my shoulder. Was she always this lightweight? “I know I said this earlier,” she whispers, “but I really am so happy to see you around here again. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

My heart sinks deep into my chest, as a stone in the ocean.

#### May 29, 2015

“Come on, Shiori-chan, don’t be shy!”

I encourage her to come to the front of the practice studio with me as Inoue-san and the rest of my backup crew watch. Shiori slowly stands up and steps forward, staring straight at the ground with her face scalding red. Once she’s standing next to me, I grab her by her trembling shoulders and whisper in her ear.

“Don’t worry. With how much we’ve practiced, I know you’ll do great.”

I hand her a microphone and she lifts her chin up. She smiles sweetly and nods her head. So I turn on the music, and for the next three and a half minutes we perform a dance routine and duet just for our little audience here in the practice studio. I’ve been helping her practice in secret for about two months, and today I finally felt she was ready to show off to Inoue-san. And show off she does - her voice is in tip-top shape from all the warmups we did (though she squeaks on a few high notes probably from nerves) and she hits every single step in the dance. Once we’re done, we take a bow as everyone watching erupts into applause. Well, as much as an audience of four people can “erupt,” I guess! Akane, Midori, and Haruka all run over and give Shiori a big group hug as Inoue-san looks on with amusement.

“So Inoue-san,” I pirouette on one foot to turn towards him, “I’ve been thinking, and I want Shiori-san to perform with me on a few songs during shows. Do you think there’s any way you could make that happen?” I lean forward with my hands behind my back and give him a big smile that I hope he can’t say no to. 

“Well,” he begins slowly, “I’m certainly impressed with what I’ve seen here. I need to talk to some of the other management about a move like that, of course, but I’ll certainly look into it, at the very least.”

Yeah, he can’t say no.

———

As I sit in the dressing room all by myself at the end of the day, carefully redoing my mascara before I leave, I hear the door creak open. In walks my whole dance crew, chattering and laughing save for Shiori, who the others have pushed to the front of the pack.

“Go on, ask her,” Haruka urges Shiori, patting her on the back.

Shiori inches forward carefully and manages to get about five feet away from me before bowing down, her short back as stiff and straight as a plank. The other girls quiet down.

“Thank you so much, Kujikawa-senpai,” Shiori blurts out louder than she probably meant to. “You’ve done so much for me these past few weeks. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” Even once she stops talking, she just keeps bowing and staring straight down.

“Aw, come on, Shiori-chan,” I laugh, “don’t be so formal. It’s just me.”

“S-sorry,” she apologizes awkwardly, straightening herself up.

“And you don’t have to apologize either.”

“I’m sorry. I mean… okay.” Oh, Shiori. You’re too sweet for this world.

“Anyway, you don’t have to repay me! It was nothing, really. You’re a super talented girl, and I just wanted Inoue-san and the agency to see that. I mean, sure, I gave you a stage, but the show was all you.” Shiori’s face ignites red as her beautiful amber eyes start glistening. So she just stands there quietly for a moment, and the sight of her just overflowing with emotion makes my heart soar.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Midori calls to Shiori.

“Right!” Shiori says, wiping her eyes and nodding her head as if to assure herself of something. “Kujikawa-senpai, I… well, all of us, actually… wanted to know if you’d, um… if you’d like to go out with me— I mean us, tonight!” The other girls start giggling as Shiori’s face practically melts from the heat on her cheeks. “We’re all going out to dinner and to go see a movie and we really want you to come!”

How could I refuse that?

“Totally! Give me just a few more minutes to touch up and we can go.”

“Alright!” Haruka cheers. “I’m gonna go grab my stuff, I’ll meet you all out front. I’ll pull up my car!” She races off, leaving the other three girls to take a seat in the dressing room while they wait for me.

“Oh, by the way,” I speak through an elastic I’m holding in my teeth while I do my hair, “I can’t stay out too late. I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.” I grab the elastic and secure one of my pigtails. “You-know-who’s coming to stay the weekend starting tomorrow morning and I want to be up to greet him.”

“No problem,” Midori assures me. “I don’t think we planned for this to be an all-night party sort of thing.” 

“Well, maybe Haruka,” Akane jokes, pouring a cup of water.

“Haruka acts like everything is an all-night party,” Midori sighs.

“I wish some of her enthusiasm would rub off on you,” Akane snickers. Midori glares at Akane indignantly, her green eyes quietly burning up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Midori counters.

“Nothing,” Akane answers innocently, sipping her water.

“Actually,” Midori grunts, getting up from her seat, “I need to go talk to Inoue-san. I’ll meet you all at Haruka’s car.” She walks out of the room, shutting the door just a little too loudly. Shiori just watches, her eyes darting nervously between me and Akane.

“You know she’s always been a hothead,” I remind Akane.

“Eh,” she shrugs, “she needs to get over herself eventually.”

“Well, try to keep things peaceful while we’re out tonight,” I plead, “I want us to have a good time.”

“Sorry,” Akane apologizes honestly, “I’ll keep it to myself. Anyway, you-know-who’s coming over for the weekend, huh? I guess he’s staying over for your birthday?”

“Yep. It’s the last chance we’ve really got to be together before I’m busy all summer, too.”

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Akane says seriously, crossing her legs. “I know you’ve got those two movies lined up back-to-back, but after that, doesn’t our schedule seem pretty sparse? And by pretty sparse I mean, like, there’s nothing.”

“Oh, that. I talked to Inoue-san about that a few days ago. He said there’s still a lot of jobs coming in and stuff, he’s just taking time to sort through them all and pick the best ones. I’m not too worried about it.”

“Well, I don’t think you have much to worry about,” she laughs. “You’re Rise Kujikawa. But for me and Shiori-chan here, if you’re not doing stuff that requires backup dancers, we may need to find other work.”

“Trust me, I definitely want to keep you around,” I reassure them. “I’ll chat with Inoue-san about it later and make sure you all stay employed.”

With no further incident, I finish getting all my stuff together, and Shiori, Akane, and I make it to the front of the building. Haruka and Midori are already waiting near the entrance in Haruka’s car. Just as I’m about to climb in the backseat, my phone chirps with the sound of a new email.

“Hey, one second,” I say, leaning against the side of the car. I pull my phone out of my purse and check the screen.

“hey rise-senpai, i went 2 catch u at the dressing room but i might have just missed u leaving… i wanted to know if u were doing anything tonight! im just gonna be all bored alone @ my place and thought maybe we could hang out… lol ^^”

Ughhhh, Kanami really picked the worst possible moment to ask me to hang out. I quickly send off a reply — “sorry, got stuff to do” — and squeeze into the backseat of the car next to Akane.

“So, who’s texting you?” Akane asks me curiously.

“Oh, nobody.”

#### May 30, 2015

 _Knock knock_.

Oh no. I can’t believe I overslept.

I sit up in my futon with a yawn and try to force my eyes open - they can barely focus on the old MUSES poster hanging on the opposite wall. Still, I can’t leave Takumi-kun waiting.

“Be right there!”

You expect a star like me to live in a pretty big place, right? Haha, well, sorry to disappoint you. I stay in a small 8-tatami apartment because my parents control all my money. They pay my bills and give me spending money, but they put most of it in a savings account. It’s no big deal, though — they give me plenty to live on and have fun with, and I’m on the road staying in nice hotels so much that I don’t mind having a small apartment. Anyway, the point is, I’ve only got to walk two meters to the door to let Takumi in but even that feels like a stadium’s length because I’m still so sleepy. Somehow I pull it off.

“Good morning,” I greet him, still in my nightgown. I fall forward so my head hits his chest and play like I’m sleeping standing up. He drops his suitcase and wraps his arms around me.

“Good morning,” he laughs warmly. “I guess I got to you before your coffee did.”

“Mmhmm,” I hum wordlessly, “so I’ll let you put away my futon while I make some.”

“Actually, we’re gonna leave the futon out,” he says, “because I just spent four hours on the train and now I’m exhausted. How about you go lay back down and I’ll make you coffee?”

Sounds good to me! I nod quietly and collapse on the futon while he brings his bags into the apartment. He drops them over by the balcony door and heads over to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Once he’s got it brewing he falls sideway on the futon, facing me.

“So,” I mumble, “what’d you get me for my birthday?”

“Wow, I’ve only been here five minutes and you’re already getting down to business.” He lets out a soft laugh, pushing his choppy black hair back from his forehad. “I always knew you only loved my wallet.”

“You know it. I’m only in this for all your part-time waiter money.” I roll over on my back and yaaaawn. “But really, what’d you get me?”

“Well, I had to lie to my professors and my boss and say I’m gonna be sick for a few days, and then I had to leave at four in the morning from Osaka to make it to Yokohama this early, but I managed to get you four days with yours truly. I know it’s not a diamond ring, but I’d like to think it’s pretty close.”

“It’s better,” I tell him as I roll on my other side and get in a comfy little-spoon position. We just lay there and cuddle like that for a bit, though after a minute I can feel something poking my lower back.

“Settle down, tiger,” I giggle, “I just woke up.”

“Trust me,” he says flatly, “I’m way too tired for that. It’s involuntary. Anyway, I should go check on the coffee.” Excuses, excuses. Takumi gets up and heads back to the kitchen while I try to sit up straight and keep my eyes open. He comes back with a mug in each hand, handing one to me. I prop my pillows up as a cushion so we can sit together on the futon, leaning up against the wall. When he sits down, I snuggle up as close as I can to him and take a sip from my mug. Ohhh yes, it’s totally perfect. Just the right amount of cream and sugar, which for me is a _ton_ of it.

“Can we just stay right here for the rest of the day?” I ask him, resting my head on his shoulder. “I don’t wanna do anything else.”

“I’m okay with that.” He wraps one arm around me and pulls my blanket up over our legs.

I may live in a small apartment, but with Takumi around it’s the most comfortable place I could imagine.

#### June 1, 2015

Takumi-kun and I stumble back into my apartment after dinner, laughing and kissing with our hands all over each other, when I hear my phone ringing in my purse. I pull it out and check the number; it’s unknown, but they caught me in a good mood.

“I’ll get the futon out,” Takumi-kun whispers in my ear with a smile as I answer the phone.

“Helloooo?~” I sing in to the mic.

“Hello,” a deep voice, run through some kind of freaky filter, answers back. “This is Rise Kujikawa’s number, yes?”

“Maybe,” I respond defensively. “Who is this? How’d you get this number?”

“You don’t need to know my name. All you need to know is I’m a reporter. Freelance, actually.”

“Good for you,” I sneer. My number must’ve leaked again or something. I’m getting pretty tired of having to change it. “I don’t have time for some creepy paparazzo, so goodb—“

“Takumi Mizushima.”

That moment, the world stops turning, and time itself slows to nothing. The breath is sucked out of my lungs.

“What did you just say?” I reply a hundred years later, keeping my voice low.

“Takumi Mizushima. That’s your boyfriend’s name, I believe.” I walk slowly over to my dining table and take a seat on the floor, never removing the phone from my ear. Takumi looks over at me with a perplexed expression. The voice on the phone continues, “Since you’re still on the line, I take it I have your attention.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I bluff. “And even if I did, all you’ve got is a name.”

“Oh, Risette,” the voice laughs, “I wouldn’t be making this call if all I had is a name. No, I’ve got quite a bit more than that. You and Mizushima-san there have had a very enjoyable weekend, haven’t you?”

I can feel the phone slowly slipping from my grip as my palms get increasingly sweaty.

“So what’s this about, then? What do you want?” I bark at my phone, unable to keep my voice under control.

“Recently I received a tip from… well, let’s just say I’ve got friends in high places, letting me know your plans for this weekend. So I’ve got dozens of photos and videos of you and Mizushima-san all over the city this weekend — eating dinner, at the park, and so on. Actually, I just heard from a photographer I’m working with that he just got some photos of the two of you making out in front of your apartment just minutes ago. Very scandalous stuff. And unlike last time, I don’t think I’d blur out your boyfriend’s face. Last time was a warning shot, you see. This would be a killing blow.” I honestly can’t keep holding my phone anymore. I put it on speaker and place it on the table.

“You didn’t answer my question! What do you want?”

“I was getting to that. My bargain’s pretty simple. I won’t release any of those photos or videos to the press if you just break up with Mizushima-san right now and cut off all contact with him.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Takumi-kun storms over to the table. “Who is this?”

“Oh, you put me on speakerphone. This was supposed to be a private conversation, Risette.”

“You don’t get to make the rules,” I yell. “What kind of weirdo would even demand something like that? Usually assholes like you just want money or something.”

“Those are my terms,” the voice answers matter-of-factly. Their voice is so calm I can’t stand it. “Do we have a deal?”

“No deal,” Takumi-kun bellows.

“I was asking Risette,” the voice pushes back.

“No deal,” I echo, and immediately hang up the call. I’m shaking all over right now. Even Takumi-kun, my rock, looks like he’s cracked. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I have to assume whatever that reporter just said is true. Those photos are going to leak out. There’s no real way I can stop that now. I don’t even know who’s doing it. Whoever it is apparently has “friends in high places?”

Inoue-san must’ve been right.

There’s got to be a leak somewhere close to me.

I can’t even begin to guess who it is.

Suddenly my phone lights up with a text message, snapping Takumi and I back to reality. I take a look at the screen. It’s from Kanami.

“haaaaaappy birthdaaaaaay rise-senpai!!! Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing you may have noticed is that _Memories of the City_ has pretty much entirely avoided pulling material from the _P4_ spinoffs. There’s a couple of reasons for that. For one, _Ultimax, Q,_ and _Dancing All Night_ hadn’t been released when I started writing this story. _Arena_ had, but I didn’t want to use too much from it in case _Ultimax_ changed things. Two, I don’t want to assume the reader’s played anything other than _P4_ itself. I make a lot of references to other Persona material in this story (how many _Persona 2_ references have I put in? There was even one in this chapter…), but I try to use them in such a way that, while you get more from this story if you’re deep in Persona lore, you’re not totally lost without it. And three, I just don’t like a lot of what the spinoffs do with the story, haha.
> 
> Given all that, incorporating Kanami Mashita into this story was a bit tricky for me. To be honest, when I first plotted out this little Rise arc, she wasn’t part of it, but as I thought out the story I realized she could play a pretty significant role. In this chapter, I tried to write her in a way that didn’t lean too hard on her appearance in _P4D_. She was mentioned in _P4_ but never actually appeared, so I try to describe her and depict her in such a way that even without knowing anything about _P4D_ , you get who she is. What’s really tricky is explaining why Rise hangs around her even though she dislikes her without spoiling major parts of _P4D_ , so just know that _P4D_ involves a situation where Kanami is very lonely and the Investigation Team become her first proper friends, haha. That’s something I tried to get across in this story, too: even though she’s a very kind and upbeat person, she’s also kind of sad and pitiful.
> 
> Aside from Kanami, the rest of this chapter carries on the story from the previous chapter. This Rise side story’s going to wrap up next chapter in what I hope is a satisfying conclusion before we return to the main story. Even within this side story, there’s a number of subplots going on: Rise’s relationship with Takumi, her friendship with Kanami, her helping Shiori get recognized, the mystery of who’s leaking info to the paparazzi, and so on. I spent a lot of time going back on forth on how each of these would conclude, and put special consideration into what the ending should _say_. I’m curious how people think it’s going to wrap up, haha.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from “Tiny Glass Houses” by Amelia Curran. The imagery of the final verse, of tiny glass houses all tumbling down, meshes well with the ending of this chapter. In one phone call Rise’s world turns upside down; her career is in danger and she’s unsure who she can even trust anymore.
> 
> As always, feel free to reach me here, or at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com, and I’ll see you next chapter.
> 
> \- Akinari


	19. Pinocchio Story Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risette's story comes to a conclusion.

**TW: slut-shaming, fat-shaming, body image issues, sexual harassment, death threats, graphic violence, blood, suicide, PTSD. These two chapters get rough, so please be safe.**

#### June 3, 2015

It didn’t take long for those photos to be everywhere — on the internet, on TV, on magazine stands. So far, my life still seems normal enough. There’s been some nasty articles online and stuff, but that’s nothing new. Then again, this is only day two. Meanwhile I’m still here at Takura Productions, getting ready for my movie shoot in Kyoto in two weeks. My acting coach and I have been going over the script from front to back till my head’s overflowing with cheesy rom-com dialogue. Anyway, today I need to talk to Inoue-san about the travel arrangements for the trip, but when I go to his office, he’s not there. It’s not his lunch, and there’s no note on the door. He must have stepped away for something. Oh well.

While I wait for Inoue to come back, I decide to take a walk around the building. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll run into him. Sure enough, after I make my way around to the back of the building, I spot him outside the back door, in the parking lot.

Actually, it’s kind of a weird sight.

Inoue and his boss, Okuyama-san, are standing by a dumpster along with Umeda-san from the mail room. Inoue and Okuyama are talking about something very seriously while Umeda empties what looks like giant sacks of mail into the dumpster. I open the door and skip outside with a smile, but Inoue and Okuyama stop talking the moment they notice me.

“Oh, Kujikawa-san,” Okuyama mumbles uncomfortably.

“Hey there!” I chirp. “Don’t mind me, I just wanted to chat with Inoue-san for a bit.”

“I-if you don’t mind, Rise, could you maybe… wait at my office for me?” Inoue rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Alright,” I answer as the atmosphere grows even more awkward. But as I turn to leave, my eye catches on the letters in the bags Umeda’s dumping into the trash.

They’re all addressed to me.

I reach over to grab one, but as soon as I try, Inoue-san grabs me by the wrist.

“Please, Rise, you don’t want to read that. Leave it alone.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on here?”

“We’re simply throwing away some mail we deemed inappropriate.” Sure is a ton of mail.

“Let go of me,” I tell him, and he gives me a helpless look before he reluctantly relents. I grab an envelope from one of the bags and flip it around to the back to find it’s already been opened. I pull the letter out and unfold it.

And then I drop it to the ground in shock.

_Ever since you debuted, I knew you were a fucking slut._

_Talentless whores like you suck your way to the top all the time._

_I bet you can still taste your dumbass boyfriend’s cock in the back of your throat while you read this._

_Or is it the taste of all the Takura bigwigs’?_

_Now that your shitty career’s over, you can finally go into adult videos before you fade into irrelevance and then die from a drug overdose or something._

_Or maybe you’ll just speed things along. You know, go full Yuko Osada and kill yourself._

#### June 10, 2015

Ever since I saw that letter I’ve shut myself in. I go to work and go home, never going anywhere else. Takura Productions put me up in a hotel room, since my apartment address was leaked. People have been swarming my apartment, so they also hired guards to keep them away in case someone tries to break in. They even arranged to have someone bring me groceries. It’s too dangerous otherwise. Forget the paparazzi — there are people who want to kill me.

Even inside my hotel room, I have to be careful. I can’t open the window curtains. I only turn on the TV if I’m going to watch something. If I leave it on in the background, some news program might come on saying something awful about me. I haven’t talked to any of my dance crew friends in a week, even at work. I only go online to check my email (which is still private, thankfully). All my public social media is getting flooded with hate.

I roll over on the bed, moving my eyes from the ceiling to the wall. Most of the time when I get home after work now I lay down and stare off into space, motionless. I’ve barely eaten the past few days, I’m not hungry. My brain’s too busy processing all this stuff, running in circles all the time, to be hungry. Or to sleep. Or to… do anything, really.

I’ve been kidnapped before. I’ve almost died before. I’ve seen monsters and gods and I stood my ground.

Even after all that, I’ve never been this scared before in my life.

All because of what? Because I have a boyfriend?

And there’s that voice in my head too. The one I used to deny but I know is as much a part of me as anything else.

_Isn’t this what you wanted?_

_You wanted people to see the “real you,” right?_

_To see what you’re like outside of the stage?_

_Now they’ve seen it. Look where that got you._

_Wasn’t it so much easier when you just played the ditzy bimbo, Risette?_

That’s not true. I never wanted this. Sure, I wanted people to see me for who I am, but there are lines you don’t cross in this business, and having a boyfriend is one. I mean, lots of idols have boyfriends anyway, but it’s got to be kept secret.

_But you’ve been aching to tell everyone, haven’t you?_

_It’s been so hard keeping it a secret._

_You wanted everyone to know._

Not like this! Of course things would be easier if everyone just knew, and they were okay with it, and I didn’t have to go through all the hassle of disguising myself and hiding from the cameras. But given the choice between keeping it a secret or going through what I’m dealing with now? I’d much rather keep it to myself.

Although the photos leaked over a week ago, Takura Productions hasn’t publicly commented, other than to say they’re “looking into it.” Inoue-san and I have met to discuss what we should do, but I feel totally trapped. Even if we lied and denied the pictures are real, I don’t know that people would believe it. One of them was right outside my apartment. And saying Takumi and I are “close friends” or something when the pictures show us making out is totally out of the question. But if we tell the truth, isn’t my career basically over? Is it over anyway?

I’m so scared.

I don’t know what to do anymore.

Someone, please. Help me.

For the first time I realize: I should talk to him about it. My thoughts shut me down right away — don’t bug him! He’s got his own problems! Besides, you haven’t talked to him in months, even after you said you’d hang out and keep in touch and all that. You don’t want it to seem like, “oh, I only call you when I need to vent.” Still… even though I think all this, I know he wouldn’t mind. Plus, I don’t know what else to do. I’m so lost. He’s always been there for me in these situations. He always knows what to do.

If he can’t help me, no one can.

So I pull my purse towards me by the handle across the bed, knocking it over and spilling my phone out. There’s half a dozen texts from Kanami but I ignore them and unlock the phone. With shaking hands I fumble through my contacts and call him.

…

“Hello?” Just hearing his voice calms my nerves a bit.

“Hey, Senpai.” I put my phone on speaker and lay it next to my head so I can splay out on the bed.

“Oh, hey Rise. It’s been a while.”

“It has. I’m so sorry for calling out of nowhere like this.” While I’m setting the phone down I notice the clock on the screen, and oh my god it’s eleven o’clock. I’ve lost all track of time. “Especially this late.”

“It’s no problem,” he assures me, and the confidence in his voice makes me believe it. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately anyway.”

“Me either,” I half-laugh, half-sigh. “So… how have you been?”

“Same as usual. Going to classes and so on. How are you?”

“Um… I…” I was hoping to put that topic off for as long as I could, but he leapt right to it.

“You don’t have to tell me, I already heard,” he says. “About the photos, I mean.”

“I didn’t think you listened to that celebrity gossip stuff,” I try to joke.

“I don’t, but Yosuke does,” he deadpans. Yeah, that sounds right.

“Even if you heard about that, there’s so much more to it. I’ve been so terrified lately,” I confide. “I’m having to stay in a hotel room to keep myself hidden. And…” As I think about my situation, the brief feeling of happiness I felt talking to Senpai starts to fade. “People have been sending me death threats, Senpai. They’ve been harassing me nonstop, wherever I go. I can’t even go out anymore, because if I do there’s cameras following me, and fans yelling at me, calling me names and threatening me and…”

And it’s breaking me apart, piece by piece, until I can’t even finish that sentence because I can’t speak through the tears. I roll on my side and curl up in the fetal position, keeping my watering eyes fixed on my phone like I’m hoping it can save me.

“Rise, listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. This is all going to pass. Eventually all those people will grow bored, and they will leave you alone, and you will move past this.”

Everything’s going to be okay. This is all going to pass. I repeat his words to myself like a mantra, trying to convince myself of their truth, but…

“What if I don’t move past it, Senpai? I’ve seen other girls get fired for this, and get disowned by their agency, and shamed by their fans, and…”

“And if that happens,” Senpai interrupts me, “it will also be temporary, and you will also move past it. But you can’t worry about all those what-ifs. If that happens, you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it. And no matter what, you will overcome it one way or another. I know you will.” He pauses and takes a breath. “Right now,” he continues, “all you can do is try to control it as much as you can, but remember that you can’t control everything. Just… focus on the things you _can_ do about it.”

“You don’t understand, Senpai, anything I do will only make things worse,” I whine. “If I try to deny those photos are real, people will say I’m lying, and if I tell the truth they’ll hate me for it, too.”

“Don’t focus on what other people will say,” he says. “That’s one of those things you can’t control. Do what’s right for you. Don’t you remember what you told me all those years ago?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me that when you got back to show business, you were going to show the world another side of you. You weren’t going to hide behind Risette — you were going to put yourself out there and show them your other sides, too. I think lying about those photos would go totally against that. Just own it. Tell them those are pictures of you, and your boyfriend, and that you’re happy together.”

“But—“

“Besides,” he continues, not even letting me get a word in, “even if you deny it now, people will find out eventually. You would only be delaying the inevitable. The sooner you get this out of the way, the sooner you and Mizushima-san will get some rest.”

He’s right.

Of course he’s right.

He’s always right.

It’s all so complicated and twisted up in my head but it’s so simple and clear when he explains it.

“Senpai,” I sigh, feebly smiling for the first time in a week, “how do you do it?”

“Do what?” he asks.

“I’ve been such a mess trying to figure all this out, and then you know right away what to do. You always do.”

He laughs, such a warm laugh I could wrap myself up in it, like a cozy blanket straight from the dryer.

“Rise, I have no idea what I’m doing. I just fake it till I make it.”

#### June 12, 2015

Today’s the day: I’m telling the world about Takumi and me.

Inoue got me a spot on a national news program this morning on the premise that we’d be advertising one of my upcoming movies, so we’re in the car heading to the studio now. I’m staring out the window lost in thought, watching a heavy rain pelt the glass. While part of me is honestly a bit excited to finally put this out in the open, I’m also shaking with nerves here in the backseat. I can feel the goosebumps raising on my arms.

“Inoue-san,” I say softly, still gazing outside, “do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“I do.”

A few minutes later we pull up to the studio, where a small mob of angry fans has already gathered in front of the entrance, expecting me. I try to keep my head down while Inoue and the guards rush me through the rain to the doors, but no matter how much I try to shut them out, my ears disobey me and focus on their every word.

“No one cares about your shitty movie career, Risette.”

“People only buy your DVDs to see you in a swimsuit, you know.”

“Sorry I ruined all my Risette photo books, the pages got all stuck together once I was done with them.”

“Hey Risette, how much do your pimps there charge for a night with you?”

“You been gaining weight? You’re fatter than Kanamin now.”

“At least Kanamin’s fat also goes to her tits.”

I want to throw up.

———

“This morning we’ve got a special guest here in the studio. Miss Rise Kujikawa is here to talk about her upcoming role in _Love on the Tracks_.” After she finishes her introduction, Omori-san turns to face me. “Kujikawa-san, thank you so much for joining us.”

“Thanks for having me,” I fake-smile, bowing slightly in my seat, “it’s an honor to be here.”

“Now, before we talk about your new movie, I understand you’ve got a very special announcement to make.”

“Yep! I do.” Even while I’m sitting here, already in front of the cameras, I’m second-guessing myself. But I can’t really turn back now, can I?

“Let’s not keep the audience waiting, then. Go ahead!”

Everything’s going to be okay.

This is all going to pass.

“Well,” I gulp, keeping eye contact with Omori-san even as the studio lighting casts a glare into my peripheral vision, “I wanted to take this opportunity to address some rumors that have been going around lately and confirm that, yes, I have a boyfriend.”

There we go. I said it. On national television.

“That’s huge news coming from a star like you,” Omori enthuses. “Can you tell us a bit about him?”

“My boyfriend’s not a public figure or anything, and I don’t think he’s really interested in being one,” I laugh. “I know there’s been some photos floating around lately. I’m pretty used to being followed by the media and stuff, but he’s definitely not. So I’d like to ask the press — well, everyone out there, really — to please respect his privacy. I will say that I’ve been going out with him for quite a while at this point, and I love him very much, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“Aww,” she smiles, “that’s so sweet of you to say. The two of you seem like a cute couple.”

“Thank you,” I nod.

“Now that we’ve got the big news out of the way, let’s talk a bit about _Love on the Tracks_. I hear filming is supposed to start next week…”

So we talk a bit about the movie and my future plans and whatnot for a bit until the next commercial break. As I’m getting up to leave my seat and head to the dressing rooms, Omori-san grabs me by the wrist. I turn around all confused, but she stands up and whispers in my ear.

“Between you and me, I’ve been in this business for a while, and I’ve seen too many idols get torn apart by scandals. I think you did an incredibly brave thing just now. I can’t tell you how much I respect that.”

I look her in the eye, and she looks back at me as if she’s met a personal hero.

“Thank you. That really means a lot to me.”

More than she knows.

———

The network also wanted me to do a guest bit in a cooking segment (yeah, I know) on the show in about an hour, so I head back to the dressing room to take a break. Hopefully I can calm my nerves a bit. While I’ve got a moment, I decide to grab my phone and give Takumi-kun a call. After all, this is as much about him as it is about me.

Before I can dial Takumi, though, there’s a message from Kanami on my lock screen:

“u go senpai, i’m so happy for u!! ♡〜٩(^▿^)۶〜♡”

I’m in a good mood, so I send a cursory “thank you!” before I go to my favorites and call Takumi.

“Morning, Rise,” he answers.

“Good morning! Did you see me on TV just now?”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’m still shaking,” I tell him, pacing back and forth restlessly. “It’s official now. Everyone’s going to know. That’s good, right?”

“We don’t have to hide so much anymore, at least,” he says. I can hear him sipping his coffee over the phone. “That’s a huge weight off our shoulders.”

“I don’t know. I’m still worried about how my fans will react.”

“People love you,” he laughs. “I’m sure they’ll get over it. You’re too popular for something like this to take you down.”

“I know what you’re saying, but… things seem different lately. Like all of a sudden the whole world’s turned against me, you know? Some of the hate mail and threats I’ve been getting are from people who never liked me, sure, but a lot of it is from my own fans. And there’s so much of it, every day, even though it was all based on rumors. Now that our relationship is public, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“All you can do is hope for the best,” he says. I can practically hear him shrug.

“I can’t keep living like this, Takumi-kun. I can’t keep being an idol if this is what my career’s going to be like from now on, living in hotel rooms and getting escorted by guards everywhere and shutting myself in.”

“I mean,” he begins, pausing to sip his coffee, “maybe if you have to stop being an idol, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

I stop mid-step.

“What do you mean?”

“You told me you wanted to get away from the spotlight, and go to college, and settle down and all that, didn’t you?” I did. “And do all those things you never have time for?”

“I did, but…”

That’s been my fantasy for a long time, hasn’t it? Get out of the idol business, go to school, settle down with a husband and get a dog and grow old and all that. Back in high school I always dreamed of doing that with Senpai, and now it’s what I always thought I wanted with Takumi-kun. But now I’m not so sure. It always seemed like such a far-off thing, something to do when I got older.

“If you want to go to college,” he continues, “you’re already a year behind everyone else your age. I mean, how much longer were you planning on staying in the idol business even if this didn’t happen? Haven’t you already had a great career?” Now he’s being rude.

“Why are you rubbing it in like that?”

“Because ever since you told me that’s what you wanted to do, I’ve been trying to figure out why you haven’t done it yet. I’d kill for you to come out here to Osaka and go to college with me. I hate being apart from you like this all the time, and how your job keeps getting between us. I just want to be with my girlfriend.” I can understand that.

“I want to be with you too. I really do. But…”

“But what?” He’s starting to raise his voice now. “Please help me understand. I don’t get it at all.”

A single bead of sweat runs down my cheek, as I only just understand it for the first time myself.

“But I love my job.”

That’s it. That’s the truth. I always imagined doing all that at some point when I was done with show business. It’s a dream I had back when I resented being an idol, when I went on hiatus to get away from it and thought all I’d ever want in the world is to live in a small town with a nice boy. But ever since I made my comeback, I’ve loved this job.

I love seeing ten thousand fans cheering back at me on stage.

I love seeing my face ten stories high on the silver screen.

I love seeing my modeling photos on towering ads in Tokyo.

I love traveling around the country and staying in giant hotel suites.

I love hanging out with my dance crew.

All these things are such huge parts of my life, I don’t know how to live without them anymore. Giving them all up to settle down when I’m only twenty years old would be a horrible mistake — I’d be throwing away my best years. And the idea that I could be kicked out of the industry by this scandal with no chance to come back? It keeps me up at night.

“It’s good that you have a job you love,” he sneers. “You’re very privileged, really, to have a job you love even more than your boyfriend.”

“Ohhhh-kay, that’s over the line,” I yell. “I am _putting my neck out_ for us right now. I’m dealing with harassment and threats every day to be with you. I went on national TV and asked people to leave you alone. I just told a million people I love you. Don’t you even _dare_ try to pull this crap on me now.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” he snaps suddenly.

“Hold on—“ but it’s too late. He’s already disconnected.

I can’t believe that happened.

He knows what I’ve been going through, what I _am_ going through. Now he piles this on me, too. I could completely shatter into pieces at any moment, and collapse into a pile of shards on the floor. I hurl my phone on to the dressing room counter and the screen cracks, but I don’t even care. I sit down in front of the mirror and bury my head in my arms on the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this is a two-part chapter, there's no author notes here! (These don't count!) You can find them at the end of chapter twenty.
> 
> \- Akinari


	20. Pinocchio Story Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risette's story comes to a conclusion.

**TW: slut-shaming, fat-shaming, body image issues, sexual harassment, death threats, graphic violence, blood, suicide, PTSD. These two chapters get rough, so please be safe.**

#### June 26, 2015

“I’m so sorry,” he pleads. “I was so stupid to push you away. The truth is, I need you. I can’t imagine my life without you. So I’m going to do something I should’ve done a long time ago.” He kneels down, planting one knee in the grass, his face lit perfectly by the distant moon. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a small jewelry box.

“Will you marry me?”

My eyes widen with surprise, wet with emotion.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, clutching my chest. “I mean… yes! Of course!”

He slowly removes the ring from his box, the diamond glittering in the moonlight, and slips it carefully over my ring finger. He then stands up before me, tall and wonderful, and gazes deep into my eyes.

“I love you.”

He leans forward and closes his eyes, and with one hand around my waist and the other supporting my back, he locks his lips with mine—

“Cut! Excellent work, you two. Beautiful performance. That’s a wrap for today, everyone. We’ll meet back here at 9 AM on Monday, so have a great weekend.”

And that’s week two of filming _Love on the Tracks_ down, with another week to go. I immediately run to grab a cup of water to wash the taste of my co-star’s spit from my mouth. You’d think he’d at least have the courtesy to use a mint or mouthwash or something before a scene like this, but no. He really wants me to know what he had for lunch.

If I sound like I’m cranky, well, I am. I’m sorry. Really. Weeks of barely sleeping are starting to catch up to me. No, the hate didn’t stop after that TV appearance. It was super naïve for me to ever hope that it would. Within half an hour after that interview the network received literally thousands of hateful emails and phone calls, many of them threatening my life and Omori-san’s. All she did was talk to me. It’s gotten so bad the hate’s just become the background noise of my life. I mean, I can try to tune a lot of it out. I can mute my phone, I can stay inside, I can turn off my TV, but even then the thoughts in my head won’t go away.

With all this weighing on me I head to my trailer to lay down and hopefully get some sleep. I wouldn’t normally stay in a trailer. Normally I’d be in a super awesome hotel suite, but Takura wants to minimize my travel to and from the film set, and they can keep a better eye on my security this way. At least they take the threats against me seriously. The media treats it like it’s just kids on the internet playing games.

So once I make it to my trailer, I open the fridge, grab a can of tea, and sit on the edge of my bed. More than anything, what hurts right now is the loneliness. Takumi and I haven’t talked since we had that fight. And my dance crew… they’re kind of weirding me out. Not only did they stop showing up to work after those photos leaked, but no one’s answering my calls or texts. Nothing. They abandoned me. And one of them’s probably been tipping off the paparazzi about Takumi-kun and me, to boot.

I take a gulp of my tea and fall backwards on my bed, and then I just space out for a bit, staring at the ceiling. For just a moment I can get my thoughts to clear out of my head and let me enjoy the total silence. A few minutes later, though, the vibration of my phone on my bedside table kills my zen. There’s a message on its cracked display:

“rise-senpaiiiiiii! i miss u!!!!!!! ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ ) hows the movie shoot going?”

Kanami’s texting me again. My first instinct is to ignore her, but… maybe it’s the loneliness, but I sit up and decide to text her back.

“im doing ok. mostly just tired. how are u?”

Her reply comes sooner than I can blink:

“super! just did a little gardning. pea sprout-san is gonna be gr8 this year (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و”

While I’m reading her reply, it snaps to me that these three texts make up the longest not-work-related conversation I’ve had in two weeks. That’s the saddest thought I’ve ever had. Thinking about it just makes the loneliness worse, so much so that I send this:

“hey kanami… do u mind if i call? i want 2 really talk 2 u!”

Not thirty seconds after I send that does my phone start ringing with a call from Kanami.

“Hellooo, Rise-senpai! It’s super nice of you to ask to call me!”

“Haha, it’s nice of you to accept. You don’t know how good it feels to hear a friendly voice.”

“Aw, I guess you’ve been all alone on set, huh?”

“Not alone enough,” I groan. “Hey, can you keep a secret?”

“Mmhmm!”

“So yesterday, after filming, one of the producers walked over to me and said he wanted to have a chat, right? So he invited me over to his trailer… obviously I didn’t go in, I’m not that gullible. But we went over to it and sat on the stairs outside, and he said he had ‘big concerns’ about me being in this movie. That he thought I might be bad publicity with ‘all my scandals’ and stuff, and the studio’s thinking of recasting my part. But then he totally changed modes, and was all ‘oh, I feel so bad about what you’re going through. I just want to help you keep your career, and there are’ and this is totally the word he used, ‘opportunities’ I could take to ensure I keep my part.”

“Oh no,” Kanami gasps.

“Yeeaah. So then he puts his arm around my shoulders and starts running his hand all over me. After that I just slipped away and locked myself in my trailer the rest of the night. I’ve been trying not to stay on set any more than I have to so I don’t run into him again.”

I surprise myself with how much I’m telling Kanami over the phone. Normally our conversations are pretty simple.

“That’s horrible! A guy like that’s probably tried that on other girls, too. It’s so gross! And trying to take advantage of your situation… h-he should be smited! … Smote? Uh… stricken down!”

She says such silly stuff so earnestly I can’t help but smile.

“I’ve been through worse,” I laugh. 

“You’re amazing, putting up with all you’re going through,” she says, her voice shining with admiration.

“I dunno about that…”

“You are! If I were in your position I’d just… I don’t know! I’d probably curl up in a ball in my room and cry forever. They’d have to roll me to work!” I can just picture that in my head. “And they could dribble me, and they could make a whole game out of it. And they’d put it on TV! The National Kanamiball Championship!” Well, that went places.

“All that aside, that’s pretty much how I’ve been feeling lately,” I admit. “Like a little ball of shame and guilt for people to kick around.”

“But you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Rise-senpai. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I must have. None of this makes sense to me otherwise.” I take a long drink from my tea. “I should’ve known better than to get in a relationship in the first place. I knew it would upset my fans if they ever found out but I did it anyway.”

“Maybe so, but…”

“Those are just the rules of the idol industry, Kanami. It’s how the whole system works. We’re only idols because our fans idolize us, and we have to love them more than anything. If people find out that we love someone more than we love our fans, of course our fans would be hurt.”

“Maybe that’s how the system works, but any system that would hurt Rise-senpai like this has to be wrong!”

“I don’t know, Kanami. I think I’m wrong. I’m a terrible idol. I wasn’t happy when I just put on a show for the cameras and I’m not happy after I showed my other selves to the world, either. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

“No no no!” she yells into her phone. “You’re the best idol in the world, Rise-senpai. You’re so amazing. I’ve always thought you were so pretty, and your voice is so sweet, and you’re just the greatest! I’ve always been so jealous of you. If you’re not happy it’s not because you’re not cut out to be an idol, it’s because the idol world isn’t cut out for you! They should put up a statue of you in front of the capitol building. ’This is Rise Kujikawa. She’s the best. Kanami said so.’ So don’t say this is your fault. Any system that would make Rise-senpai unhappy is a broken system to begin with!”

I’m not even sure I understand what she’s saying, but I can tell she means every word of it, and that it’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me in weeks.

“Thank you, Kanami. That’s really sweet of you.”

“Aw, it’s nothing. We’re best friends, after all!”

#### July 15, 2015

My next movie was supposed to start filming this week in Tokyo, but ever since last week the whole city’s apparently been drowning in rain. There’s a lot of outdoors scenes, and there’s no way we can film them with weather like that. They’re trying to reschedule of course, but the forecast just calls for more and more rain with no sign of letting up. So until they get all that figured out, I’m back in the hotel room in Yokohama that Takura put me in after those photos leaked.

I’ve still got nothing to look forward to after this movie. My schedule’s totally empty after it. Back in May, Inoue-san told me there were more job offers coming in, but somehow none of them turned into actual work. Maybe they all dried up after I went public about Takumi-kun. That’s the only explanation I can think of.

So I’m just sitting at a table, staring out the window of my hotel, when I hear a knock on the door.

“Special delivery!”

That’s unusual for a lot of reasons. The only people who should know I’m in this hotel are Inoue-san and Takumi-kun, and there’s guards outside who have to clear anyone that wants to come in, like the hotel staff. I walk up to the door and check the peephole, and see a delivery man who appears to be holding the package behind his back. To be honest, after the whole TV thing, I’m still a little scared of answering the door for deliveries, but I go ahead and do it anyway. The guards must’ve cleared him.

“Hello, Miss Rise Kujikawa,” the man answers. He’s actually quite handsome, now that I take a look at him… such a strong jaw and toned arms.

“That’s me,” I reply.

“I’ve got a delivery for you from a very special someone,” he smiles.

“Oh my god,” I gasp as he reveals a massive flower bouquet, full of roses, orange lilies, and sunflowers, contained in a thick, beautiful glass vase. “They’re so pretty!” I grab the vase from him and run to place it on the table in front of my window so they can get some sun. Oh, I love the choice of flowers — so summery and warm. And right in the middle, I notice a card.

_Sorry for being a jerk. I want to spend more time with you, but above that, I want you to be happy._

_Remember what I said before?_

_Wherever you want to go, or whatever road you take from here, I’ll be with you._

_I love you. I miss you every day._

_Happy anniversary._

_Takumi_

I completely forgot.

I haven’t talked to him in weeks, and I’ve had so much else on my plate that it totally slipped my mind. But those are all excuses — I should have remembered. I’m so glad he did, at least. He doesn’t know how much this means to me right now, to not have to worry about losing him on top of everything else I’ve had going on. I clutch the card to my chest, hugging it as if it were him. I love him so much.

Suddenly I hear my hotel room door shut behind me, and hear the chain lock slide into place. When I turn around, the delivery man’s standing in my hotel room, staring at me almost in amazement.

“This is fate, isn’t it?” he asks. That’s so weird. That’s so _creepy_. What kind of question is that?!

“What are you talking about?” I yell. “Guards! Please come in!”

The man walks toward me, slowly, as I hear the guards trying to unlock the door. They have keycards, but the chain lock keeps them out. My blood starts pumping faster and faster with each step this man takes.

“People have been trying to find where you’ve been staying ever since your apartment leaked,” he continues, “but no one knew where you went. And then this flower delivery company I work for just happens to get an order from your boyfriend that took me right to you. That can’t be coincidence, right?” He keeps walking toward me until I’m backed into the corner of the room, between the bed and the far wall. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.

He pushes me to the floor and grabs me by the wrists, sitting on top of me and pinning my arms beneath his legs. My guards are trying to kick in the door, but they still can’t get past the chain lock. I can barely even think straight, every bone in my body is screaming, begging for me to escape somehow.

“I love you,” he says softly.

“GET OFF OF ME,” I yell as loud as I can, trying with all my strength to push him away, but he’s so much stronger than I am. He reaches into his breast pocket with his right hand and pulls out a box cutter, exposing the blade. He presses the blade firmly against my chin, and with a weapon inches from my mouth I don’t dare to speak anymore.

“I’ve loved you ever since your debut,” he whispers. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.” He strokes my cheek with the back of his left hand. A single bead of blood runs down my neck from where his box cutter pierces the skin on my chin. I can trace the exact path it takes as it drips to my collarbone. “I bought all your photo books. I watched all your DVDs. I’ve been to every Yokohama show you’ve ever done. WHY ISN’T THAT ENOUGH?” He starts yelling, and his eyes grow wild. “WHAT DOES HE HAVE THAT I DON’T?”

Slowly, he removes the box cutter from my chin and turns it around in his hand so that the dull side of the blade faces me. He then rests the dull side right on the side of my neck, on my jugular vein. The cold metal of the blade sends a chill through my veins, into my bones. I don’t even breathe. Even the tiniest movement could… could…

“You betrayed me,” he mumbles, his mint breath hitting my face. “After I dropped out of school and started doing these shitty jobs, you were all I had. I loved you so much. I worked my ass off to afford all of your merchandise. And then I find out you let yourself be… _tainted_ by some guy I’ve never even heard of.” He pushes the back of the blade even harder against my neck. “I can’t stand it. What is my life even worth if I can’t be with you? What is your life worth if you aren’t with me?”

I’m going to die.

Oh my fucking god, I’m going to die.

He takes the box cutter away from my neck and twists it in his hand so the sharp side faces my throat, but soon his hands start shaking. First only slightly, but then he can barely even hold the cutter anymore. He looks down at his hand, and then straight into my eyes, where he just stares for what feels like the rest of my life.

Then, all of a sudden, his tears start raining onto my face.

“I can’t,” he sobs, “I can’t do it. You’re still so beautiful.”

“If you love me,” I plead with what little voice I can still muster, “then please let me go. Please.”

Then there’s a thundering _crash_ as the door of the hotel room slams to the ground, and the sound of boots stomping against the wood as the guards storm into the room. The delivery man doesn’t even blink — he lifts the box cutter up and turns it toward himself, and holds it over the left side of his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he cries.

“Oh my god, please don’t do it, please—“

He does it.

He does it.

Right in front of my eyes.

He plunges the box cutter into his chest, right into his heart.

Then he rips the cutter from his torso, tosses it aside — splattering blood on my face, into my eyes, and across the bouquet — and collapses on top of me. He wraps his arms around me in an embrace, and I’m completely paralyzed. His blood keeps pouring out from his chest wound, drenching my shirt. With the last of his strength he looks up at me, lifts my head up with his hand, and kisses me sloppily on the lips. His eyes lock with mine, and in terror I realize I’ve never seen someone look so overcome with joy in my life.

“I’m so selfish, aren’t I?” he whimpers.

The joy fades from his eyes.

#### July 24, 2015

Grandma always says I’m like tofu. It looks weak and fragile, but really it’s pretty resilient. It stands out because it’s not like any other food, but it still goes great with all sorts of other foods and flavors. Tofu is incredible.

I’m nothing like that.

Today I’m quitting my job. I’m quitting my job because I’m weak and fragile. I’m quitting my job because I’m tired of standing out, because standing out is causing me to get hurt. I’m quitting because I can’t get the blood out of my eyes no matter how much I wipe it away. I’m quitting because every night I see that man’s lifeless smile in my dreams. I’m quitting because the whole incident made it into the media, and now people blame me for a complete stranger killing himself, as if I’d stabbed him in the heart with my own hands.

I’m quitting because all of this has broken me and I don’t know that I can ever be put back together.

Takura Productions set up a press conference right outside the studio for me to announce my exit, and it starts in just a few minutes. Right now I’m still in the dressing room, counting the seconds until this — all of this — ends. The makeup team did everything they could, but when I look in the mirror all I can see is how pale I look, how sick and weak I’ve gotten. I see how empty this massive dressing room is, reminding me of how I haven’t seen or heard from my soon-to-be-former dancers in almost two months. That’s okay, though. Four less ties to this place for me to break.

The door opens, obliterating the silence in the room. Inoue-san pokes his head in.

“It’s time,” he says. Yes, it is.

We walk down the halls of Takura Productions, each footstep I take echoing for miles. I sniffle, and I still smell sunflowers and roses.

“I’m so sorry,” Inoue-san whispers. “I hate that it had to be like this, but after all you’ve been through… I can understand why you need to do this.”

I don’t talk back. There’s nothing to say. Even this press conference is just a formality to me at this point. All I can think about is going back home to my futon and shutting myself off from all of this.

We reach the entrance of the studio, and even before Inoue-san opens the door I can hear the press circling outside, like cats watching a mouse hole. As soon as we step outside the whole world lights up from the sheer number of camera flashes going off at once. There must be a hundred press members here, from as many outlets, with as many cameras aimed my way and as many microphones waiting to pick up every word I say. And right in front of me is the podium where I’m gonna give them what they want.

So for the last time, I put on Risette’s fake smile and step up to the podium to read my scripted speech.

“Hello, everyone,” I begin. “Thanks for coming out here today. As you probably already know, I’ve been going through a lot lately in my life, so I wanted to come out today and make a major announcement. As of today, I am…” Keep smiling, Risette. Just this one last time. Don’t fail me now. “I am leaving the idol industry. I decided I need to leave for my health, both physically and mentally, and so that I can spend more time with my family and with my boyfriend. At this time I don’t know if I’ll ever return to the stage, but for now I think it’s best that I take some well-earned time off.”

“I’d like to thank my manager and everyone here at Takura Productions, who have always been wonderful, but have also been exceptionally understanding of my situation. I’d also like to thank all the members of my dance crew, both past and present, who have always been great fun to work with and talented in their own right. And…” The scar on my chin aches. Keep smiling. Keep smiling. “… and most of all I want to say thank you to my fans. Everything I do, I do for you, and without your love and support, these past six years would never have been possible. I am so grateful for every last one of you. Goodbye, and thank you all again for coming out here today.”

I smile, and bow, and take a step down from the podium. That was it. I’m free.

Inoue’s boss Okuyama-san steps up to the podium to give a quick word to the press.

“There will be no Q&A session following this press conference today. If you have any questions or concerns, please contact Takura Productions’ public relations department. Thank you.”

With that, Okuyama-san steps down, and the conference is over. My career is over. Okuyama-san, Inoue-san, and I all turn around to walk back into the building.

But then, the most incredible thing happens.

Just as we turn to face the entrance, the front doors of Takura Productions fly open, creating a hurricane-strength gust of wind from the force. Out through the door, dressed in an oversized white T-shirt and sweatpants, storms Kanami Mashita, with a power in her step I never knew she possessed and a fury in her eyes I never knew she was capable of. Without so much as blinking she strides right up to the podium and yells into the microphone, while Okuyama, Inoue, and I watch awestruck.

“I have an announcement to make too!”

The press light up at this unexpected development, turning their cameras back on as fast they can to capture whatever Kanami’s about to say. Okuyama-san turns to the audio team and signals to cut the mic, but the only thing that accomplishes is making Kanami scream even louder.

“RISE-SENPAI NEVER DID ANYTHING TO ANY OF YOU! SHE DOESN’T DESERVE ANY OF WHAT YOU’VE PUT HER THROUGH! ALL OF YOU OUT THERE WHO WERE MEAN TO HER AND SPREAD THOSE PHOTOS AROUND AND THREATENED HER, YOU’RE SICK! AND BLAMING HER FOR THAT MAN KILLING HIMSELF? IT’S DISGUSTING! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT SHE’S GOING THROUGH AND HOW MUCH SHE’S HURTING! YOU’RE HORRIBLE PEOPLE! ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED!” She pauses to breathe after totally emptying her lungs from shouting. “IF THIS IS WHAT BEING AN IDOL DID TO RISE-SENPAI, THEN I DON’T WANT TO BE A PART OF IT EITHER! I QUIT TOO!” She reaches around her neck and rips off a lanyard containing her Takura employee badge, and she hurls it into the crowd of press members, who fight over it like meat thrown into a pack of dogs.

Then Kanami steps down from the podium and turns to face me, and that fury totally fades from her bespectacled eyes. She runs towards me and wraps her arms around me, hugging me tightly, before I hear her crying over my shoulder.

“Rise-senpai, I know things have been so hard for you, but… please hang in there… I can’t lose you, too…”

And right there, in front of a hundred press members, Risette cracks and shatters into a million pieces. I hug Kanami and squeeze as hard as I can, clinging onto her shirt, and for the first time in over a month I stop holding back my tears. So together we just cry, and cry, bawling our eyes out and drenching each other’s shoulders as a horde of cameras looks on, until we’re so weak from sobbing that we drop to our knees and collapse. Even then, we don’t let go.

It’s only then, as the two of us drown ourselves in an ocean of our own tears, that I realize Kanami might be the truest friend I’ve ever had.

#### July 28, 2015

I’m home.

No, not my apartment. Once I left Takura, there was no reason for me to stay in Yokohama anymore. My parents were willing to keep paying my rent — my bank account’s not gonna run dry any time soon — but I needed to get away. I think maybe in spring I might go to Osaka and attend college with Takumi-kun, but for right now I just want to stay somewhere safe and loving.

So I came back to Grandma’s tofu shop in Inaba.

Today, I think, all I’ll do is lay on my futon and watch TV, and maybe help Grandma out with the shop a little. There’s not much else I can do around here, with all my other stuff still in boxes piled all over my room. As I am right now, even opening all these boxes to unpack is beyond me. Just the thought of cutting the tape off the boxes… well…

So right now, in the middle of this fortress of cardboard, I’m just laying on my futon messing around on my phone. I think I finally feel safe to go on the internet a bit. I do have some private social media accounts the public doesn’t know about, so I can at least check those. Or at least, I think that until I scroll past this one headline on my feed.

“After Rise Kujikawa and Kanami Mashita’s explosive exits, you won’t believe who Takura has lined up for their next big star!”

For a second I dismiss it as the usual clickbait celebrity trash, but my eye catches on the photo they’re using for the article.

It’s Shiori.

I click the link and read the article.

_It hasn’t even been a week since Takura Productions lost two of its biggest stars in Rise Kujikawa and Kanami Mashita, but it seems the agency hasn’t wasted any time looking for hot new talent to put under the spotlight. As it turns out, they may not have had to look very far. Anonymous sources have confirmed to us that Takura recently tapped Shiori Sakurai, best known as one of Risette’s backup dancers, to be the new face of the agency. There’s even talk that the rest of Risette’s dancers, including Akane Ishihara, Midori Hirai, and Haruka Amano, may join her to form a new idol group…_

Suddenly it hits me.

I didn’t want to suspect her.

I thought we were close.

She had everything to gain from this.

Her silence ends now. She thinks she can sink my whole life and just avoid me? I’m never going to let this go. I go right to my contacts and call Shiori’s cell. Try not picking up, Shiori. I’ll call again, and again, and again until you do. I’ll get another phone if you block me. You aren’t running away from this.

… But then she answers right away.

“Kujikawa-senpai, I’m so sorry,” she says right off the bat, before I even say hello.

“You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say? You ruined my life, Shiori.”

“W-what?”

“This is all your fault! You were the one who leaked all that stuff to the press! What, so you could get me out of the picture and be an idol yourself? You could’ve easily become a star without killing my career!”

“Kujikawa-senpai, I never—“

“Or was it some kind of sick revenge for your boyfriend dumping you? I trusted you, Shiori! I did everything I could to get you where you are! Do you understand everything I’ve been through because of you?”

I can hear Shiori crying on the other end of the phone before someone takes the phone from her.

“Rise, stop it.” It’s Akane’s voice. “Shiori-chan didn’t leak anything to the press. You know she’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“Then what’s she got to be sorry for?”

“We’re all sorry. We are so sorry that we haven’t been there for you. It’s been hard on all of us watching you go through all that, but Takura told us not to talk to you for a while until everything had blown over.” Wait, what?

“W-why would they do that?”

“The day those photos leaked last month, Inoue-san got all four of us together and said Takura wanted to give Shiori a chance to be an idol, and that the rest of us would be her dance crew. We all agreed, but they told us that we had to keep it a secret from you for now. Actually, they told us we weren’t allowed to talk to you at all until they said it’s okay. They even sent us to another studio to practice to keep it hidden from you.”

“And you agreed to that?”

“We have to earn money somehow, Rise! This is our job! And you didn’t have any work lined up for us, so what were we supposed to do?”

“But that still doesn’t make any sense. Why would they tell you not to talk to me?”

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell us. Those were just their terms.”

That’s so strange. And I still don’t know who was leaking all that info to the press, either.

“Akane, are Midori and Haruka with you?”

“Um, yes, we’re all here. We’re just about to go to rehearsals, actually.”

“Put me on speakerphone.”

“Okay, done.”

“If it wasn’t Shiori, then one of you had to have leaked where Takumi and I would be meeting up to the press. I didn’t tell anyone else but you all. Please,” I sigh in defeat, “just admit it to me. It’s not like I can do anything about it now. Just let me know which one of you it was.”

“I’d never do that to you,” Akane insists.

“Me either,” Shiori whimpers.

“Of course I wouldn’t do that,” Haruka barks.

“I never leaked anything to the press,” Midori claims.

“Well, there you have it, Rise,” Akane proclaims. “None of us would ever have done anything like that. But you should have already known that. Hang on,” she interrupts herself suddenly. “Midori, what’s wrong?”

“I-I didn’t tell anyone in the press,” Midori stutters, “but… I did tell Inoue-san.” Midori. She always was a snitch. But… wait, hold up.

“What do you mean you told Inoue-san?” I butt in. “When?”

“I told him right after you told us about your boyfriend back at the hotel, and last month just before those pictures leaked.” That can’t be right.

“Inoue-san called me when the first pictures leaked back in December,” I argue. “He didn’t know I had a boyfriend then, or where I was.”

“It was months ago, so I don’t remember exactly,” she says, “but I know I told him not long before those first pictures got out.”

“But, that would mean—“

I always thought it was weird. That first set of photos that leaked — you could barely tell they were me, and Takumi-kun’s face was blurred out. Why would they blur out Takumi’s face? Paparazzi aren’t that nice.

And there’s that phone call I got last month. The voice on the phone said the first photos were a warning shot? Why would a paparazzo fire a warning shot? And why did they demand that I break up with Takumi-kun? All of that seems really out of character for some sleazy celebrity ‘reporter’.

But if Inoue-san… no, not just Inoue-san. If Takura Productions knew about my relationship, that changes everything. If Takura knew I had a boyfriend, of course they’d want me to break it off. If the press found out about my relationship, it’d be terrible for their business. So they fire a warning shot to try to scare me into breaking it off myself. And then, when that didn’t work, they knew it was only a matter of time before the media found out, so they decided to control the leak themselves, after giving me one last shot to end things with Takumi.

And with Shiori, they even already had a replacement lined up for me. I delivered her to them on a silver platter, personally. Then they bribe Shiori and the others to let me suffer alone and keep me from finding out about Midori, until I break completely and leave the industry of my own free will without them having to fire me directly. And all the while they get to act kind and supportive so I never suspect a thing.

_I think it’s a beautiful thing._

_All that old, dried-up grass is getting cleared away to make way for new life._

My life was endangered.

My relationship nearly fell apart.

My entire career went up in flames.

I was harassed, threatened, and nearly murdered.

I helplessly watched one of my fans take his own life on top of me.

I still taste his tears in the back of my throat.

All because Takura Productions decided it was time to burn down Mount Wakakusa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can imagine, this chapter was extremely draining to write.
> 
> You probably noticed that chapters seventeen and eighteen were very different in tone than _Memories of the City_ had been up to that point. I knew once I started writing this story out that they would probably not sit well with some readers — hey, what happened to my depressing Yu-at-college story? This isn’t what I signed up for! The answer is it was all a setup so that this chapter would be possible, which deals with some of the darkest material in the whole story up to now.
> 
> I mentioned in the chapter seventeen author notes that I originally planned to have all this happen off-screen, and have the reader only see the end result. In my earliest drafts for chapter seventeen, they began with Yu and Yosuke in their dorm room, gathered around the TV watching Rise’s retirement speech. I was never happy with that for several reasons, the biggest being that I just didn’t feel it was emotionally impactful that way. Oh, Rise was having problems six chapters ago, now suddenly she quits?
> 
> It was hard to think of a way to really drive what Rise’s going through home to the reader, especially if I were to keep the story from Yu’s perspective, where he’s not very personally involved in it. Putting the reader in Rise’s shoes, where you can experience first-hand the harassment she’s dealing with, the way it’s disrupting her daily life and straining her relationships and putting her very life in danger, felt like a clear solution to that problem.
> 
> When I decided to write the story from Rise’s perspective, there were originally two major differences. The first is that Shiori was originally written to actually be the culprit, but when I thought about it, I felt like that sent the wrong message. I wanted to put the blame for all that happens here on the idol industry and the obsessive, creepy portions of its fanbase that it too often cultivates and panders to. Putting the blame on one of the girls for all of this felt incredibly off-message. Still, I decided to keep some hints that Shiori might be the culprit in chapter seventeen as a red herring. The other big difference is that Kanami wasn’t involved at all. When I thought about it though, I thought it’d be strange for Kanami not to appear, since she’s supposed to be Rise’s friend and coworker. When I had the idea of her coming to Rise’s defense after Rise announces she’s retiring, I knew right away I had to include her. That was actually the first scene with Kanami that I came up with.
> 
> This story was inspired by many true stories I’ve read coming out of Japan about the treatment of women in the media. For instance, in chapter eighteen I mentioned an idol who had to shave her head and apologize to her fans for having a boyfriend, which is the true story of Minami Minegishi in 2013. Even right after I finished writing this chapter, I read a story in The Guardian from just this week about a Japanese TV personality known as Becky whose employers ripped up her contract and had her basically blacklisted from TV after a leaked text message indicated she was having an affair with a pop star, and now she’s fallen ill and is suffering from depression. The guy she had the affair with is still unscathed, of course.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the song of the same name by Kanye West, which was a hidden track on his album _808s & Heartbreak_. The struggle between a humble life and the glory of fame is a well-trodden idea in Kanye’s work, but I think _Pinocchio Story_ speaks particularly well to the themes I cover in these chapters. The song’s core metaphor about Pinocchio longing to be a real boy ties in deeply with Rise’s desire to show more of herself to the world than just the Risette persona she put on before her hiatus. Pinocchio lied, Kanye says, and that’s what kept him from his dream. But even when Kanye tells the truth, he’s still unable to find happiness, and he’s attacked by the public for showing vulnerability.
> 
> This is the end of this story arc for Rise, so next chapter we’ll be heading back to Yu’s story. Please look forward to it! And as always, I love to hear from you all, so feel free to reach out to me either here or at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story.
> 
> \- Akinari


	21. You Tell Me Summer's Here...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yu visits Inaba for summer break.

**TW: This chapter depicts PTSD.**

#### July 31, 2015

“I wanna go too, Big Bro!”

I’m just about to head out the front door when Nanako clings to me from behind, wrapping her little arms around my stomach.

“Would it be okay with you, Dojima-san?” I ask, turning to the dining table. He lowers his newspaper and taps his cigarette on the ashtray.

“That’s fine,” he smiles, “just keep her safe for me.”

“Yay! Thank you, dad,” she cheers. She goes to reach for my hand, but instead I bend down.

“Hop on!”

She climbs onto my back and perches herself on my shoulders, and we head out the door.

Summer break is here.

Today, beneath the clear sky and brilliant summer sun, Nanako and I are headed to Junes. Thanks to Yosuke, the Investigation Team’s set to meet up at our old headquarters. So the two of us stroll down the country roads on our way to the department store, passing smiling strangers and the occasional stray cat as we go. Once we get to the front door, I let Nanako dismount from my shoulders so we can actually fit through the doorway. Of course, she latches onto my hand right afterward. She’s practically bursting with joy as we ride the elevator upward. I’m excited too, but probably not for the same reason — I’ll be seeing Chie for the first time in months.

As we step out of the elevator, my hair rustles with a gentle breeze. The Junes rooftop welcomes us with open arms and empty tables, save for one that’s densely packed with friendly faces. They’re too occupied to notice my arrival, though. Teddie’s stuffing his face with some manner of foodstuff, which I believe to be the narrowest term Junes is legally allowed to call the meals they serve. It’s getting all over the table as Yosuke desperately tries to blanket the whole surface with napkins.

“Dammit Teddie, can you just not be a slob for like, one meal? Please?” Yosuke pleads.

“I can’t help it! The food’s just so…”

“Don’t lie, Ted,” Kanji interrupts, “no one’s gonna believe that shit’s any good.”

“Oh, thanks, Kanji,” Yosuke groans, “say it loud enough for my dad to hear you next time.”

“No, I was gonna say it’s so awful I gotta shovel it down my throat before I can even taste it!” Teddie smiles right through that sentence and through every following bite like it’s nothing.

“At least try to remember somebody’s gotta clean that stuff up after you’re done, okay?” Yosuke sighs.

“Ooh, look how cool Yosuke-kun is, standing up for the little guy,” Rise giggles.

“Hey, _I_ was that little guy once!” he fires back.

“Don’t mind me,” I say, pulling up a chair next to Yosuke, “continue your discussion.”

Of course, the conversation stops right at that moment as everyone turns to face me.

“Sensei!” Teddie grumbles through a mouthful of food. “And Nanako-chan!” Nanako runs over to Teddie and gives him a big hug around the waist.

“Good to see you, Senpai,” Naoto greets me. “It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?”

“Too long,” I agree, taking a seat. “You’ve been keeping pretty busy over at Tatsumi Port Island, haven’t you?”

“I suppose I have,” she says with a rare smile.

“I’m glad you managed to get the time off,” I smile back. I turn to my right, where Chie sits right next to me. “Oh, and it’s nice to see you, too.”

“Y-yeah,” she stutters, blushing vibrantly, “I’m happy to see you.” She inches her chair slightly closer.

“So, how’s everyone been?”

Everyone takes turns sharing stories of the past few months. Chie hates gun training at work, Yukiko’s got celebrities staying at the Inn, and Kanji and Teddie can’t stop fighting over who’s missed Naoto more. But all the fun and gossip comes to a halt when I get a tap on the shoulder. I turn around — Kiyomi stands behind me. Everyone else at the table immediately quiets and turns to face her as well, glaring at her like an unwelcome guest.

“Sorry to bother you,” she whispers.

“It’s okay,” I assure her. “What’s up?”

“It’s three in the morning and your train leaves at nine, doesn’t it? I thought you might want to get some sleep.”

I stand up from my chair with a sigh, and as I do the entire scene is painted white, with brush strokes bleaching everything in sight, until Kiyomi and I are standing alone in the paper-white abyss of her notebook.

“I just want this trip to go well,” I mutter.

I turn to face her, but she crosses one arm across her chest and averts her gaze.

“I know.”

———

Someone shakes my shoulder.

“Hey, Yu, we’re almost there. Wake up.”

I open my eyes with a yawn, a headache shooting through my forehead as my eyes struggle to focus.

“You didn’t get much sleep last night, huh?” Yosuke’s sitting next to me on the train.

“I stayed up too late.”

“You aren’t having those nightmares again, are you?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Oh, I know why you were up late,” Yosuke laughs. “I noticed Kiyomi wasn’t sleeping on the couch when I got up to use the bathroom. I bet she was in your bed, am I right?”

“I told you before it’s not like that.” I’m telling the truth.

“Come on, dude, just tell me. I don’t _care_ if you’re sleeping with her, I just want to know where things stand, you know?”

“I’m not sleeping with her,” I insist again. “I just woke up, Yosuke. Please go a little easier on me.”

“Okay, okay. I’m still not cool with her living on our couch, just so you know. That dorm’s not big enough for three people and a cat. Someone’s gotta go.” He takes a drink from a water bottle he pulls from his backpack. “And I’m worried about leaving her alone there while we’re gone.”

“We needed a cat-sitter while we’re away, and she gets along with Amane.” I thought Amane was an appropriate name — the sound of rain. “Besides, she’s been on good behavior.”

“I guess you’re right,” he sighs, leaning back in his seat. “She seems different than I remember her. She’s been acting all mopey lately, like, it makes me depressed just looking at her. Did something happen?”

“I think so, but she won’t tell me what. She’s as much a mystery to me as she is to you.”

“That just makes her scarier,” he chuckles.

I think it’s time for a change of subject.

“Anyway,” I segue, “I was planning on visiting Rise tomorrow. She’d probably appreciate us dropping by. Do you want to come along?”

“Ugh, I really want to, but I don’t know if I can,” he frowns. “My dad’s making me help out at Junes tomorrow. Apparently some guys from corporate are coming to town Monday and he wants me to help make sure the store’s in top shape for their visit.”

“Ah, the prince of Junes has been beckoned back to his castle.”

“I’ll have to dust off my old crown,” he smiles half-heartedly. “After I get done at Junes I might drop by Rise’s too, if it’s not too late. If I can’t, could you invite her to our group get-together next week for me?”

“Sure.”

A voice blares from the train’s PA system.

“Attention, passengers. We will be arriving at Yasoinaba Station in approximately five minutes.”

#### August 1, 2015

Dojima-san and Nanako picked me up from the station and brought me to their home, where dinner was already waiting. Afterwards I went straight to bed, not just because I hadn’t slept well the night before, but because dinner put me into a food coma. Dojima-san always splurges on takeout and makes sure I have a full meal whenever I come visit.

So today, refreshed and well-rested, I’m walking down the Inaba shopping district on my way to visit Rise. As I approach her grandmother’s shop, I notice a giant mountain of cardboard boxes piled in the small alleyway next to the building, probably from Rise’s move. For some reason I worried there may be stalkers or press crowding the place, but the coast seems clear. I guess Rise is considered last week’s news.

The inside of Marukyu Tofu always smells like a fresh home-cooked meal; the sounds of sizzling pans and bubbling broths fill the air. In the back stands a small old lady, skillfully brushing miso sauce onto a plate of momen tofu. I almost feel guilty interrupting her work.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I speak up, kicking off my shoes, “is Rise home?”

“She’s not here,” the old woman says, not looking up from her tofu, “and it’s very rude of you to call her by her given na— oh!” She turns around and recognizes me. “I’m sorry. You’re one of Rise’s friends, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m Yu Narukami. I was her senpai at Yasogami High.”

“Of course, of course, she always loved to tell me about you,” she laughs. “Forgive me for being so unpleasant, there have been some very… unkind people looking for my granddaughter lately. She’s upstairs in her room. Do be quiet, though. I think they are all tired out from unpacking her things, so they may have taken a nap.”

“They?” I ask, but Rise’s grandmother has already gone back to her work. So I head upstairs and knock gently on Rise’s door, but no one answers, so I open it as quietly as I can. It’s difficult not to laugh at what I find waiting for me. Lying in the middle of Rise’s futon is Kanji, sprawled out all over the floor, with Rise — dressed in pajamas — snuggled on one of his shoulders and Teddie snuggled on the other. I can’t believe I couldn’t hear Teddie’s snoring through the other side of the door. I could just wake them up, but… instead, I get on the floor and rest my head on Kanji’s chest.

“Uhhh…” Kanji groans, “whozat… issit you, Nao-chan…” Kanji sits up and opens his eyes, and his face blushes red as if bursting into flames. “S-senpai! The hell did you get here?!” I sit back up and just smile back at him.

“Oh, hello, Kanji.”

“Senpai…?” Rise mumbles, trying to prop herself up with one arm and rub her eyes with the other. “Oh my god! Senpai!” Suddenly a burst of energy surges through her and she tackles me to the floor with a hug, clutching me more tightly than I think she ever has before. “I’m so glad to see you! I had no idea you were coming over.”

“I thought I’d surprise you,” I tell her with what little breath I can gather.

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“Huh?” Teddie asks, oblivious as always. “What’s going on?” Out of the corner of my eye I see him turn to me. “Sensei! You’re here!” He lunges across the room and joins in on Rise’s hug, until this feels more like two people trying to suffocate me than a group hug. If it sounds like I’m complaining, believe me, this is the happiest I’ve been in months.

Eventually Teddie lets go, but Rise still clings on, and after a moment I realize my shirt sleeve’s starting to get wet — she’s crying on my shoulder.

“You guys… you don’t know what it means to me to see you all again…” She sniffles and rests the side of her head against my chest. “The past few weeks have been so frightening… I….” She trails off, still sobbing. I sit upright, with Rise still holding me tightly, and I start petting her thick tousled hair softly.

“It’s okay, Rise. We’re all here for you. You’re home.”

———

Rise’s grandma doesn’t keep sodas and the vending machines at Shiroku closed down along with the store, so I have to walk down to the gas station to get drinks for everyone. When I get back to Rise’s, I toss everyone their soda cans and we all kind of gather in a circle on her floor to have a group chat. Rise turns to me first.

“I guess you’re back in Inaba for summer break, huh, Senpai?”

“Yep,” I answer shortly, popping open my TaP. “Yosuke’s in town too, actually, but he couldn’t make it here. His dad’s making him clean up the store today. The Junes prince has become but a mere servant.” That makes her laugh, at least a little.

“Some beary big special men are coming to town to visit Junes this week,” Teddie chirps. “I heard they’re gonna look over the whole store and look at all the money numbers, and if the numbers are big enough and the store’s clean enough Yosuke’s dad might get a promotion!”

“Damn,” Kanji grunts, “I didn’t know the store was doin’ so well.”

“You know, since Yosuke couldn’t come here, maybe we could all head to Junes and pay him a visit,” I suggest. Rise stares down at the floor.

“I don’t know if I’m up for that,” she speaks quietly.

“What’s up?” Kanji asks.

“To be honest, I… I haven’t left home since I’ve come back here,” she confesses. “I barely even get out of bed.” As she says that, it strikes me how pale her complexion has become.

“What’s wrong, Rise-chan?” Teddie asks. “Are you sick?”

“I _feel_ sick,” she whimpers, clutching herself with her arms crossed over her chest as if she’s shivering. “I feel clammy all the time, and my arms and legs feel so weak it’s difficult to even get up or move around. I’m not running a fever or anything, so I don’t think I’m actually sick. It’s probably all in my head, but…”

“But that doesn’t make it any less real to you, does it?” I ask her. She nods. I won’t say I know what she’s going through, but I do know what it’s like to feel sick and tired from sheer mental stress. Whatever happened must’ve done a number on her. On that note… I’ve heard about what happened second-hand, of course: the scandal with her boyfriend, the man who killed himself in her hotel room. But I haven’t really gotten to hear about it from her directly.

“Rise,” I call softly, “do you want to talk about what happened?” She looks at me for a moment, thinking about it, hesitating. Finally she answers.

“No.” Honestly, I wasn’t expecting that.

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything—“

“She said no, Senpai,” Kanji cuts in. “If she don’t wanna talk, she doesn’t have to. She’s been through a shitload already, she probably doesn’t wanna have to remember it all over again.”

“Thank you, Kanji-kun,” Rise smiles weakly toward him before turning back to me. “Even just thinking about what happened… my stomach turns, and I get nauseous, and my skin feels so cold. I can’t imagine talking about it right now. When I’m ready, you know you’re right at the top of my list of people to to talk to, okay?”

“Okay,” I give in. Kanji decides to change the subject.

“Yo Rise, I know Junes is kinda far away and all, but maybe it _would_ be good for you get outta the house for a bit, you know? What if I took you and Ted and Senpai out for lunch at Aiya? It’s right down the road, we wouldn’t have to go far.”

“You don’t have to do that for me,” she pushes back. “You and Teddie already helped me so much today by unpacking my stuff.”

“I know I don’t gotta do it, I just want to,” he replies, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “But I get it if you don’t feel like it.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she explains, “but I’m scared.”

“There’s nothing scary at Aiya,” Teddie chimes in, “especially when Chie-chan’s not there.”

“No,” she says, “I’m scared of being seen. I’m scared of being recognized, and what someone might do if they see me.”

“I didn’t see anyone suspicious on my way over here,” I reassure her.

“That’s what’s so terrifying, Senpai. It could be anyone.”

Kanji scoots over close to Rise, wrapping one strong chiseled arm around her shoulders.

“Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you out there, Rise. Me and Senpai both got your back. First dumbass who tries anything’s not gonna walk straight for a week.”

“Damn straight,” I growl in my best Kanji impersonation. Rise looks over at me with a giggle.

“Okay, okay. I’m still nervous, but I think I can at least make it to Aiya if you guys are with me. It’s a date.” Teddie’s eyes light up at those last few words. “If we’re gonna go out, though, I need to change into something a little less, well, pajamas. Do you mind waiting downstairs while I get ready?”

“No problem,” Kanji grunts, patting Rise on the back as he stands up. The two of us head to her doorway, but Teddie sits perfectly still.

“C’mon, ya dumb bear,” Kanji calls.

“But I wanna watch!” Teddie cries just before Kanji grabs him by the shirt collar and drags him across the floor to the door.

———

Once Rise’s ready, we head down the street to Aiya, with Rise hanging tightly onto Kanji’s arm the entire way. We enter the front door to find the restaurant mercifully empty and take a table in the back. Kanji and Teddie sit in the chairs against the wall while Rise sits next to me, with our backs toward the entrance in the hopes that someone walking in may not recognize her. The owner’s daughter, Aika, races over to our table promptly with four menus and four glasses of water on a tray before quickly distributing them to each of us.

“Any specific drink requests?” she asks, her voice monotone.

We all just had sodas, so we opt to stick to water. Aika hurries back to the kitchen as we open our menus.

“How you holdin’ up over there, Rise?” Kanji asks, poring over the soup section.

“I’m okay,” she smiles. “Now that I’m actually here I feel a little better. I’m glad there’s not a lot of people around to stare, either.”

“We’re beary lucky,” Teddie adds. “Usually there’s nowhere to sit around here at lunchtime. Now we have the whole place to ourselves for our three-way date with Rise-chan!”

“Shut your trap, Ted,” Kanji grunts. “Last thing Rise needs is some creep with a camera or somethin’ to hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Rise laughs. “The press already hates me anyway, and Takumi-kun won’t mind. Well, he might consider Senpai a threat, but he knows you and Teddie aren’t.”

“O-oh yeah?” Kanji says, straightening his shirt’s collar. “I ain’t good enough to be a threat, huh?”

“No,” I say deadpan, “you’re just gay.” Rise nods stoically as Kanji’s face ignites in flames.

“You didn’t have to say that, Senpai!” he yells.

“Oh, come on,” Rise giggles, “you came out to us years ago.”

“Well, yeah, but that was supposed to be between us!”

“But there’s no one else here,” Teddie points out.

“That ain’t the point, dammit!” He slams his fist on the table. I can practically see the steam coming out of his nose, but he settles down a few moments later. “I ain’t mad at ya or nothin’, Senpai, I’m just still kinda private about that stuff, y’know? People look at me funny enough as it is.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if anyone else were around,” I comfort him. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s nothin’,” he shrugs, “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” He turns back to his menu.

“Oh yeah! Sensei!” Teddie’s face lights up like a lightbulb. “I just remem-beared! Do you remember a few months ago when you said you thought you saw that Izanami woman again, and you asked me if anything strange was happening in the TV world?” I nod, but Rise looks at me with her eyes wide.

“What’s he talking about, Senpai? You never told me about that.”

“It’s a long story,” I deflect. “I told Kanji and Teddie, but I didn’t want to scare everyone in case it turned out to be nothing.” That satisfies her for now.

“Anyway,” Teddie continues, “the other day I went into the TV world and I just went for a really long walk. I walked and walked and walked like I’ve never walked before! And after a beary long time I came upon something I’d never seen before. It was like a big cliff!”

“Whaddya mean, ‘like’ a big cliff?” Kanji asks.

“Well, it was like the ground just stopped right there, and there was a lotta empty space, like someone took a big bite out of the whole world. When I looked down all I saw was the sky!” The TV world must have some interesting geology. “And if I looked really really hard, I could see that the ground appeared again a long way away. Like a big chunk of the world is just missing.” Teddie looks down at his feet sadly. “But I dunno what that means. I can’t believe my nose never noticed before.”

“So somehow a big hunk of the TV world just up and vanished? What the hell happened to it?” Kanji wonders.

Of course, my first thought goes to the notebook, though I keep that to myself. I always thought it reminded me of the TV world, but at the same time, I’d find it hard to believe the whole notebook world is just a chunk of the TV world someone cut out, or something to that effect. When someone ended up in the TV world, it formed an area and a Shadow from that person’s subconscious, but the notebook world is much more about the _conscious_ , I guess? You’re in much more control of it. Perhaps it’s _related_ to the TV world, but I don’t think it’s _part_ of the TV world. I’m just speculating here, though.

“Teddie,” I finally respond, “do you think you could go back there sometime and maybe check for any clues as to what happened? That sounds very suspicious.”

“Maybe I could come too,” Rise adds. “Kanzeon might help find something.”

Our group chat is suddenly interrupted when Aika returns to our table.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Oh, sorry, we got a little distracted,” I apologize. “Please give us a few more minutes…”

———

After lunch, we’re headed back to Marukyu Tofu when Rise tugs at my sleeve.

“Hey, Senpai,” she begins, “actually, I kind of want to go somewhere else. Do you have money for bus fare?”

“I do,” I answer, “but are you sure you’re up for it?” She nods.

“I think I just needed a little push,” she smiles. “Getting myself to come out here was really hard, but once I worked up the strength to do it, I felt a lot better.” I think I know what she means.

“Well, where do you want to go?”

“The hill overlooking town.”

We get on the next bus, which takes us to the road by the foot of the hill, and trudge our way to the top. At the peak stands a small wooden pavilion sheltering a table, as well as a set of benches, and a wooden fence over which one can see the entire town in all its small beauty. The four of us all jump over the fence and perch ourselves on top of it, with a support beam separating Rise and me from Kanji and Teddie. The sky overhead is illuminated in a brilliant blue, with just enough clouds to keep the sun’s rays from shining too harshly.

“This was always my favorite spot in town,” Rise says wistfully.

“I always have fun coming up here with Nanako-chan and Dojima-san for the fireworks festival in the summer,” Teddie enthuses. “Are they gonna have one again this summer?”

“Course they will, they do it every year,” Kanji assures him.

“Last winter, Takumi-kun took me to the top of this mountain that overlooks Nara,” Rise recalls. “It reminded me a lot of this place.” A silence passes as we sit on the fence and gaze out over the town, which I can only imagine looks tiny next to a city like Nara. Eventually Rise continues, “Hey, guys. You can keep a secret, right?”

“Definitely,” I tell her. She looks downward at the rustling grass that runs down the slope of the hill before speaking up.

“It was my agency.”

“Huh?” Kanji grunts.

“They were the ones that leaked all those photos and stuff to the press,” she sighs. “I don’t have any real evidence, but… it’s the only explanation that makes any sense.”

“But why would they do that to you?” Teddie asks. “I thought that Inoue-san guy really liked you!”

“I think they were afraid the story of me having a boyfriend was going to get out in the press at some point anyway and they wanted to make sure they could control it,” she explains. “And Inoue-san… he’s just a businessman when it comes down to it, huh? He only liked me because I made him successful.” Kanji’s fingers tighten their grip on the wooden beam on which he sits.

“That’s horseshit,” he yells. “They can’t get away with that. Can’t you sue their asses?”

“But I don’t have any way to prove it,” she cries. “And they have so much money and so many lawyers… and I’m so scared of how people would react. People already think I’m a liar, and a slut, and…” Tears stream down her pale cheeks as I wrap one arm around her and rest her head on my shoulder. “I can’t go through all that again. I’m just not strong enough.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” I tell her. “What you’re going through wouldn’t be easy for anyone.”

“I know,” she whimpers. “I just… I just want my job back.”

I reach for my back pocket, making sure a certain sheet of paper is still safely folded up within.

“What if…” I start, but I hesitate, wondering whether I should even say this at all. “What if there was a way you could be an idol again?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if there was some place you could go and just have whatever you wanted? You could be an idol, or you could be with your boyfriend, and you didn’t have to worry about stalkers or the press or anything?”

“That sounds amazing!” Teddie cheers, but Rise looks up at me with bewilderment.

“I don’t know why you’re asking me that, Senpai. Somewhere like that doesn’t exist. A place where you can just have whatever you want? I mean, wouldn’t something like that be dangerous?”

“Yeah, the real world don’t work like that,” Kanji chimes in.

My reply to that never leaves my lips.

It is spoken only in my head: _Maybe it should._

Instead, I just change the subject.

“Forget I brought it up. Anyway, Rise, Yosuke wanted me to ask you something.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re trying to get an Investigation Team get-together organized next week so we can all meet up at the Junes food court—“

“Hey, is Naoto gonna be there?” Kanji butts in.

“No,” I answer, “she’s got work, and she’s all but impossible to get ahold of anyway. But we wanted to know if you might come, Rise. If you’re up for it, of course.”

She pauses for a moment, lost in thought.

“If you’d asked me earlier, I probably would’ve said no,” she says, “but I feel a little braver now. So sure. I’ll come.”

———

We hang out and talk up on the hill a while longer, and after a terrifying incident where Teddie almost went tumbling all the way down the hill until Kanji saved him, we decide it’s time to bring Rise home. So we wait for the bus and head back to Marukyu Tofu, but once we arrive, we come upon a familiar man standing outside the building. We’re still a bit down the road when we see him, so he hasn’t noticed our presence.

“Inoue-san’s here,” Rise gasps.

“Your old manager?” Kanji asks.

She nods.

“So he’s the asshole responsible for everything that happened to you, right?” he growls. Rise holds him back.

“Let me talk to him,” she pleads. So we walk further up the road, with Rise in front, until he hears us coming and turns his head.

“Oh, Rise, there you are,” he greets her. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What are you doing here, Inoue-san?” she interrogates him, her face holding back a scowl.

“Well, we usually direct-deposit paychecks, but I wanted to hand-deliver your last one to you and check on how you were doing. I know you’ve been through a lot lately.”

“No shit,” Kanji sputters. “She’s been through hell—“ Rise turns and shushes him.

“I’m doing better now since I’ve got my friends here with me,” she smiles sincerely. “And I want my check direct-deposited. It’s supposed to go to a bank account my parents control.”

“Of course, that completely slipped my mind,” he chuckles. “Well, it was good to see you again. I’m genuinely relieved to hear you’ve been doing better.”

“No thanks to you,” Teddie yells, to everyone’s surprise. We all immediately turn to face him.

“What are you talking about?” Inoue asks innocently.

“Teddie, don’t—“ I try to stop him, but he goes off anyway.

“You’re the one who put out all those pictures and made those people say so many mean things about Rise-chan! You should be ashamed! You hurt her and made her cry! That’s unforgivable!”

“Teddie,” Rise gasps, her eyes glimmering.

Inoue-san’s cheerful expression immediately fades, his brow furrowing and his voice becoming stern.

“Is that the story you’ve been telling your friends, Rise? Because it’s not true. Frankly, I’m hurt.” He takes a step toward us.

“Inoue-san, I—“ she tries to talk, but he’s not hearing it.

“Not only that, but it’s libel. If your little story here ever got out into the media, for instance… well, I can’t control what our lawyers might do.”

Just then, Kanji lunges forward and grabs Inoue by his shirt collar, lifting him straight up in the air.

“Was that a threat?” Kanji shouts. “Cause that sounded like a threat.”

“It was a warning,” Inoue answers. “Rise of all people should know how harmful baseless gossip can be.”

Kanji responds to that by slamming Inoue-san’s back against the wall of Marukyu Tofu.

“Well, here’s a warning for you, you piece of shit,” Kanji snarls, still holding Inoue up against the wall. There’s a venom in his words I’ve never heard before. “If I ever see your face around here ever again, I’ll make sure it leaves a permanent imprint on the pavement.” He enunciates the consonants deliberately, spitting in Inoue’s face. Finally he lets go of Inoue’s collar, dropping him to the ground. “Now get the fuck out of here and don’t ever come back.”

Inoue stands up slowly, gripping his surely-aching back. Without another word Inoue limps to his rental car just a bit down the road and drives off. Once he’s turned the corner out of sight, Rise turns to Kanji and Teddie.

“You guys… you shouldn’t have done that.”

“He was being so nice, I couldn’t help it!” Teddie exclaims. “How can he act like that after all he did to you?”

“‘Sides, you probably wanted to say all that stuff to his face anyway, right?” Kanji adds. “You were just scared of what he’d do if you did. That’s what friends are for, you know? Stickin’ up for you when you can’t stick up for yourself.”

She runs up to Kanji and Teddie and stretches her arms wide to wrap them both in a big hug, immediately causing both of them to blush a blazing red.

“Today was perfect,” she says softly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I-it was nothin’, really,” Kanji dismisses her.

“It was everything to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always have goals set out when I write a chapter - characters I want to focus on, themes I want to develop, plot points I want to address. With this one, I had quite a few different goals, so hopefully I hit on all of them without the chapter seeming too disjointed. 
> 
> The first scene, with Yu in the notebook world, is a little bait-and-switch I’ve wanted to do for a while and only just found a good place for it. Of course, it’s more than just me trolling — it’s also meant to illustrate Yu sinking just a bit deeper into escapism. We saw him use the notebook world for similar purposes back in chapter fourteen, but now we see that perhaps it wasn’t a one-off thing for him.
> 
> I also wanted to wrap up Rise’s story a little more. I know that the last four chapters were all Rise-centric, but after everything that happened in those chapters, it’d be out of character for Yu _not_ to go see her when he’s in town. The last few chapters were also pretty upsetting for Rise, so I wanted to give her some happiness. One little bit I really like in this chapter is when Yu asks Rise if she wants to talk about what happened to her, and she tells him “no.” Yu’s so used to people telling him their whole life stories that he’s not used to such a close friend saying “no” like that. I think it scares him a bit, since he already feels like he’s growing distant from everyone as it is…
> 
> And Kanji! I felt that I’d criminally underused Kanji so far in the story and wanted to let him steal the spotlight a bit this chapter. Kanji and Rise’s friendship was a background element in _P4_ that the game never drew much attention to but that I really enjoyed, so I wanted to show the two of them being close. I think Yu walking in on Rise, Kanji, and Teddie all snuggled up together on her futon is one of my favorite little moments I’ve written.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from Yo La Tengo’s “Tears Are in Your Eyes,” from their 2000 album _And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out_. It’s a slow, sweet song that I think could be about Rise in this chapter. “Although you don't believe me, you are strong/Darkness always turns into the dawn…” Anyway, thanks as always for reading this story. I appreciate it more than you know. Please feel free to let me know what you think either here, or at glimpseofamemory.tumblr.com, and I’ll be back with a new chapter soon!
> 
> \- Akinari


	22. Kuroi Namida

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yu realizes that nothing in Inaba is quite how he remembers it.

**TW: Discussion of suicide.**

### ???

The fog parts, and once more I am formless. All I can see is what’s illuminated by the spotlight overhead, revealing the table upon which the two otherworldly guests continue their wager. The man on the left twirls a silver coin in one hand absentmindedly, while the _thing_ on the right remains stationary, as if lost in thought.

Last I was here, the two seemed to be engaging in a card game of some kind, but now their game seems to have… evolved. In the middle of the table lies a chess board, but the pieces are all wrong. Several of the squares are occupied by mahjong tiles, and others by Go pieces. A set of three dice, all with varying numbers of sides, sits next to the board. And yet, in his other hand, the man on the left still holds a hand of butterfly-backed cards. So, indeed, does the creature on the right, whose cards are stuck to a slime-covered black tentacle.

“Take your time,” the man says. “I don’t expect you have anywhere else to be any time soon.”

The faces lining the tentacles of the creature shriek in hideous laughter.

“And what of you?” it grumbles back. “So lonely you’ve come to visit me in this gods-forsaken place.”

“Now now,” the man laughs, “don’t be so modest. I’ve a great many other things I could be doing, but instead I’ve gone out of my way to see you. You should feel very important.”

“Enough of the mockery,” the monster growls. “I can’t concentrate like this.”

“Ah, you were concentrating. I couldn’t tell from the way you’ve been playing.”

“It’s difficult to form an offensive when some of your pieces don’t wish to follow orders.” The monster lays a card down from its hand and picks up its queen piece on the chess board, when suddenly my vision is flooded with a familiar fog. I no longer seem to be in the strange chevron-floored room as the two gamblers. Actually, I’m not quite sure where I am. The pale-brown fog blinds me completely. In the distance I hear a voice. 

“W-what are you doing here?” The voice is frantic, fearful. A girl?

“Ah, shouldn’t I be asking you?” Another voice, also feminine, but older.

“It’s none of your business! You can’t stop me!”

“So you came here to die, then? How noble. But…”

“H-hey! What is this? Cut it out!”

“As much as I’d love to see you thrown out with all this other garbage, I’m afraid I can’t let you go just yet. Not while I still have a use for you.”

“Stop it! _Leave me alone!_ ”

“After all, I am thou, and thou art I.”

“LET ME—“

### August 3, 2015

I wake up in the morning with the memory of that dream still fresh on my mind. Rays from the rising sun seep through the cracks in the curtains on the opposite wall as the cicadas outside begin their song. Was it a dream? The more I think about it, the more I’m reminded of the way Igor would whisk me away to the Velvet Room in my sleep. Something about that room where the man and the monster are playing their game… it’s just like when I’m sitting in that limousine.

Slowly I pull myself up from the futon on the floor, brushing my bangs from my eyes as I make my way downstairs. The smell of bacon and eggs drifts in from the living room, where I find Nanako already up and preparing breakfast. Dojima-san must’ve left for work early.

“Good morning, Nanako-chan.”

“Oh, Big Bro! You’re up.”

“Who taught you to make bacon?”

“One of my teachers at school. It’s really easy, you just need to make sure it cooks evenly and watch the heat,” she explains, turning the strips over in the pan.

“I’m glad someone’s teaching you to cook well,” I smile as I pat her head. My appetite flees briefly as I remember what happened when my friends tried to teach Nanako to cook, but the smell of breakfast brings it running back.

“Dad likes it too,” she beams. “He’s always tired when he gets home from the office, so I want to be able to make him dinner.”

“I’m sure he’d be really happy to come home from work to a home-cooked meal. Maybe I’ll help you make him dinner one night this week.”

“Really? That’d be amazing,” she says, her mouth agape as she looks up at me with pure delight. “Thank you.”

———

Nanako and I decided to head to Junes for groceries, both because we’re running low on a few things, and so that we can plan out what dinner to make Dojima-san later this week. This worked out well for me, as it gave me an excuse to go for a walk on a beautiful summer day. It also worked out well for Nanako, who got an excuse to go to Junes. She’s certainly grown over the past few years, but somehow her love of big corporations and catchy marketing jingles continues unabated. We’re in the produce section picking out bananas when I joke to her about it, trying to strike up a conversation.

“So what do you like so much about Junes, Nanako-chan?”

She thinks about it for a bit.

“There’s just so much _stuff_ here,” she says. “There’s all the food, and the toys, and the TVs and computers. It’s so big.”

“Is that it?” I smile. “I guess, coming from the city, I’m used to all that. Maybe I’m spoiled.”

“I wish I could see the city with you,” she sighs sadly. She’s never visited me in Tokyo. I wish she could, but since we both go to school and there’s so much overlap in our schedules, it’s hard to find time for it. Plus, Dojima-san would have to come out, too. He’s not sending his little girl off to the city alone, even with me to watch her.

“I promise you’ll get to see it someday,” I tell her, confident it will come true eventually. Then she looks up at me.

“So why do you like Junes, Big Bro?”

“Well, I don’t know if I like Junes itself all that much,” I begin, her face already pouting a bit from my answer, “but I have some great memories here. My friends and I used to hang out here all the time.”

“I remember that,” she says. “You used to go to the TV department a lot, too. I thought you were gonna surprise me and dad with a big new TV.”

“Ha, ha…”

Anyway, we pick up everything we need, and since it’s a rather short list with nothing that needs refrigerated, Nanako and I decide to take the scenic route home just to enjoy the fresh air. We’re taking a walk around the neighborhood on the way back when Nanako lodges her first complaint of the day.

“My arms are tired. Could you carry these bags for me?”

“Sure” I tell her, outstretching my left arm like a coat rack. “Hook them on me.”

We keep walking, recklessly, as Nanako tries to push her bags’ handles over my arm so I can carry them. Once she manages to do so, her fingers get caught between the bag handles and my arm.

“Owowow! Big Bro, Big Bro, my fingers—“

I turn to see what’s going on, and as all this is happening, we walk up to an intersection and slam right into someone who was trying to turn the corner. The side of my head bangs right into the forehead of the unlucky woman we ran into, and that combined with the weight of Nanako pulling on my arm sends both Nanako and I falling on our behinds.

“Ugh,” I groan, trying to regain my composure. “Nanako-chan, are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” she says. I look over to find her buried under half a dozen grocery bags, but otherwise okay. Strangely, I hear the woman I bumped into gently laughing. I recognize her instantly when I turn back around. She’s rubbing her probably-sore forehead with her left hand; a diamond on her ring finger sparkles in the sunlight. Still, she looks down at me with a smile.

“It’s been a long time, Narukami-kun,” she beams.

“Yumi?” I ask, just to make sure. “Yumi Ozawa?”

“It’s Yumi Ishikawa now,” she answers, extending her right hand.

Oh my god, she’s married.

She’s the same age as me.

That’s impossible.

It should be illegal. I am forever young, and people my age are too young to be married. That is the law. And yet here Yumi stands, flagrantly committing a felony before my eyes with a smile. It terrifies me. Regardless, I take her hand, and she helps me get back on my feet. Standing next to her, I’m struck by how tall she is. Of course, I knew this years ago, but I haven’t seen her in ages. Even without heels she’s as tall as I am. Together we help Nanako up and sort out the bags, hoisting them all on my shoulders.

“So, Nanako, this is Yumi Oz— sorry, Ishikawa,” I correct myself. That will take some getting used to. “She was in drama club with me back in high school.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nanako says with a smile.

“You too,” Yumi smiles back. She reaches her hand out and ruffles Nanako’s hair. “You’re Narukami-kun’s cousin, aren’t you?” Nanako nods her little head.

“I’m impressed you remember that,” I say.

“Of course,” Yumi begins, “you were living with her and your uncle back when you went to Yasogami High, right?” Right. She turns back to Nanako. “Your cousin’s such a good guy. He was very kind to me when I was going through some rough times back in high school, even when I was… maybe a little hard on him,” she laughs. “You’re lucky to have him.”

“Were you Big Bro’s girlfriend?” Nanako asks innocently. Yumi hesitates to answer as her face flushes pink. I realize Nanako couldn’t possibly know about this, but her question brings back a painful memory for both me and Yumi.

_Y-Y’know… I… I love you…_

_So, uh… I’ll turn around, so if you’re going to reject me, just leave the room. That way, I won’t have to see you go…_

“I was almost her husband in a play,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. “But aside from that, we were just friends.”

“We were very close,” Yumi says. “Anyway, Narukami-kun. Are you going to be in town for a while?”

“For the next few weeks, yeah,” I answer. “I’m out of school for summer break.”

“Maybe we could grab coffee sometime, then. Do some catching-up. My husband’s at work all day and I’m kind of a housewife, so I don’t have much to do.”

“You don’t think your husband would mind?” I don’t know anything about him, but I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.

“Not at all, he’s not that kind of guy,” she assures me. So she grabs her phone from her purse, and we exchange email addresses. Well, my hands are a little full with groceries, so I tell her mine and she sends me a message, and the vibration in my pocket confirms that it came through.

“It was good to see you again, Narukami-kun,” Yumi bids farewell as she goes on her way. So Nanako and I continue our walk home.

“She’s pretty,” Nanako remarks. “She’s the same age as you?”

“Mmhmm,” I confirm.

“But she’s so tall and mature, and she’s married. She’s way more of a grown-up than you, Big Bro.”

I think Nanako might have a point.

———

Don’t tell Dojima-san, but I’ve been sneaking out of the house at night.

After dinner, once Nanako is tucked in and Dojima’s passed out on the couch, I go over to the desk in the corner of my bedroom and take a piece of paper out of my pocket. Every time I see it, it asks me that same question.

_What am I afraid of?_

As I put a pen to the paper I know, somewhere in the back of my head, that I shouldn’t do this. That it’s a horrible temptation, that something like this shouldn’t exist.

But sometimes I need the escape.

As always, the first place I end up is on a stone path, lined on both sides by a forest of bamboo. As I round the corner leading to the shrine, I find Kiyomi lying on her back upon the staircase, gazing up at the night sky with her notepad resting on her chest. I have something to ask of her, but she seems distracted. So instead I lie down quietly beside her and stare up at the stars.

“Hey,” I greet her in a half-whisper.

She doesn’t answer, her grey eye fixed resolutely towards the sky.

“The bamboo blocks a lot of our view, but maybe we can see some constellations. It’s just the right time of year for the Summer Triangle, isn’t it?”

Still nothing. I pass my sight over the stars, looking for the Triangle.

“I think that’s Vega,” I say, closing one eye and reaching my index finger to the heavens. “And over there is Deneb, which means this one down here…”

Before I can finish my sentence, she reaches her hand skyward and, with a pinch of her fingers, plucks Altair out of the night sky. She brings it down and holds the tiny star up to her face to study it, as it shines brilliantly along the bridge of her nose. Eventually she flicks Altair from her finger, as if it were a speck of dust. She finally closes her notepad, sets it aside, and rolls over to face me.

“Narukami-kun, I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it?”

“Take me to Inaba.”

That came out of nowhere.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s go somewhere empty, then—“

“The real Inaba,” she shakes her head. “I… I want to see what it’s like.”

She’s been acting strange lately, but this is especially unlike her. Why would she have any interest in Inaba? Besides…

“How am I supposed to take you there?”

“Just take me with you when you leave,” she answers. “You can leave from here to anywhere my notebook exists, and you have a scrap in Inaba, right?”

It never occurred to me you could use the notebook that way. Even so, there’s obviously tons of other reasons to object to this. We’ll pop out of the scrap paper right into my bedroom at Dojima’s, and if anyone I knew saw her in town — especially Yosuke — they would have so many questions. Not to mention that I came here tonight to get away from the real world for a bit. Still, with the pathetic way she’s looking straight into my heart…

I’m really bad at turning people down.

———

Kiyomi and I sneak out of Dojima-san’s house, somehow unnoticed. We’re lucky Dojima-san picked himself up off the couch and went to bed at some point. Without any real plans, we stand aimlessly outside the front door.

“So,” I turn to her, “is there anything in particular you want to do here? Some place you want to go?”

“I don’t care. Anywhere is fine with me,” she answers. Figures that she’d beg me to take her and then have no idea what to do once she’s here.

“It’s a small town, but it’s not so small we can walk the whole place.” Certainly not at eleven o’clock at night after I already walked to Junes and back carrying groceries.

“Why do we have to walk?” She points to the side of the house, where Dojima’s old scooter sits against the wall, neglected. I wonder if there’s even any gas in it, or where the keys are, for that matter.

“Wait right here,” I say, sliding the front door back open. Quietly, I sneak back up to my bedroom and find the keys to the scooter in a drawer in my desk, where they’ve probably been for the last three or four years. Once I’m back outside, I drag the scooter out into the road, hop aboard, and jam the keys into the ignition. Surprisingly, it starts right up. It even has most of a tank of gas.

Without asking, Kiyomi climbs on to the back of the scooter, barely fitting on the seat. She rests her head against my back and wraps her arms around my stomach, holding on tightly when I put my foot to the gas. As we take off down the road, I’m reminded of why I asked Dojima-san for a scooter in the first place and can’t help but smile a little.

God, Yosuke would be so jealous.

———

Just as we round the corner leading to the shopping district, Kiyomi tugs at my shirt.

“Pull over for a bit.”

I park the scooter right at the corner of the road near the bus stop and leave it there as Kiyomi and I go for a stroll down the shopping district. She looks with fascination at every missing sign, every shuttered door. As we walk by the Velvet Room door situated between the old bookstore and what used to be Daidara Metalworks, I swear I notice her eye catch on it just for a moment. It must just be my imagination, though. Even other Persona users can’t see it.

“You’ve seen me walk through here before in your notebook, remember?” I ask as we pass the remnants of the Shiroku Store.

“This place is so different from the one you visit in the notebook,” she observes. “All these shops have closed down, huh?”

“There’s still a couple open, but most of them were closed even back when I lived here.”

“It’s depressing,” she mourns. “The place in your memories always seems so full of life.”

I want to argue that it’s livelier during the day, and it’s not as bad as it looks. But now that I finally stop and take a look at the state of the shopping district, I realize she has a point. So much of the shopping district I remember is gone. Even at night, I would meet up with friends here, or work part-time at the Shiroku pub. Now the streets are deserted, save for the two lost souls wandering their ruins.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing Kiyomi’s hand as I start walking back towards the scooter. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

———

We drive the scooter around town for a while, passing by Junes and Yasogami High. It’s been so long since I’ve really taken in the whole town like this. Most of my visits the past few years have really just been to Dojima’s and my friends’ places — Chie’s, mostly. And Junes, of course. When was the last time I saw my old high school, or drove by the hospital? Was Inaba always this run down, this empty?

This lonely?

In any case, Kiyomi doesn’t ask to stop again. She just rests quietly against my back as we cruise through the town, like a cat curled comfortably in your lap. After an hour or so of driving around town in near silence, I decide we should head back home. Maybe she’s happy, but this little trip is kind of getting to me in a bad way.

But as we’re heading down the street along the Samegawa flood plain, I catch a glimpse of the night sky’s reflection on the river, the half-moon floating above the gentle current of the stream. It’s such a sight that I’d hate to waste it, and besides, I could use a break from driving. I park the scooter at the edge of the road, then turn to Kiyomi.

“Mind taking a smoke break?”

The two of us take a seat on a bench along the flood plain. I reach into my pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes. Kiyomi stares at me expectantly like a kid hoping for a treat, and I don’t understand why until I realize she’s not carrying a bag and none of her clothes have pockets. With a sigh, I take a second cigarette out for her. Naturally, she doesn’t have a lighter either, so I light both of us up and lean back to relax.

“Well,” I say to myself as much as to her, “at least the Samegawa River is still as beautiful as ever.”

“It is pretty,” she agrees, admiring the view. She takes a drag on her cigarette, only to cough it all back up a moment later. Strange, she usually doesn’t have a problem smoking.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m just fine,” she insists. She sits up and crosses her legs, never taking her eye off the horizon. “Hey, Narukami-kun. I know you’ve been trying to get me to tell you more about myself for a while, and I’ve been all weird and stuff lately, and… I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry for keeping so many secrets.”

I can tell it took a lot of effort for her to come out and say that.

“It’s never too late to open up,” I tell her, exhaling smoke.

“There’s some things I haven’t told you because I don’t want to. But there’s other things I haven’t told you because… I can’t.” Her fingers clinch her cigarette tightly. “Back when we first met, you asked me if I had any other friends.”

Did I? Probably. It sounds like something I’d ask her.

“I did. Great friends, actually. Better friends than I deserved. They knew right away something was fucked up about me, but they took me in anyway. Kind of like you did.” She lets that hang in the air for a moment. “But I had to abandon them. I didn’t want to. It was the only way I knew to protect them.”

“Protect them from what?”

“From me.”

That’s what she told me when I found her sitting alone in the rain on campus, too.

_“But if you came to meet me, then why were you telling me to stay away earlier?”_

_“Because I’m scared.”_

_“Of what, me?”_

_“No. I’m scared of me. I’m a fucking monster. I shouldn’t even exist.”_

“You keep saying things like that,” I tell her, pausing for a puff of my cigarette. “That you’re scared of yourself, that you’re trying to protect other people from you. Why?”

“That’s one of those things I can’t tell you,” she deflects. “No matter what I do, or where I go, I’m a danger to the people I care about. There’s no escaping it, no changing it.” She buries the half of her face covered by her eyepatch in one hand. “The only way I knew to protect my friends was for me to die. I tried to kill myself.”

“That’s horrible,” I argue. “Killing yourself is never—“

She grabs me by the collar and stares me straight in the eye, her expression in flames.

“Don’t fucking talk about things you don’t understand!” 

I’ve seen her angry, but not like this. I struck a serious nerve.

“Then help me understand.”

“You don’t need to know! I don’t have to tell you a damn thing. You’re lucky I’m telling you anything at all.” She releases my collar and turns back to the river. “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is for me to talk about this? Just shut up and listen, okay?”

“Okay, okay,” I relent.

“Thank you. Obviously, I’m still here, but…”

She stands up and drops her cigarette on the dirt, then takes a step toward the Samegawa.

“I wish I could just walk into the river,” she says as she takes another step, “and sink deeper and deeper into it, until I just disappear…” She keeps walking, one small step at a time, until the platforms on her shoes are submerged in the stream. Without really turning around, she tilts her head back to face me with her good eye. “I’ve been a dead girl walking for three years, Narukami-kun. I’m only alive because someone won’t allow me to die.”

I bite my tongue, not wanting to be yelled at again.

“What about your old friends?” I ask. “Do they know any of this?”

“They can never know. It would defeat the whole point of me abandoning them. Besides,” she says, turning back to the river, “they wouldn’t even remember me now anyway.”

The night wind blows. Kiyomi’s shoulder-length black hair waves in the breeze. I snuff out my cigarette and walk over to her, soaking my shoes in the Samegawa. She doesn’t so much as look at me as I bend down, cup my hands together, and scoop up some water from the river.

Then I splash it right in her face.

She takes a second to react, her expression completely stunned as the gears in her head spin to figure out what just happened.

“W-what the hell, you idiot—“

Then I splash her again.

“You fucking _asshole!_ You—“

And again.

“—dumbassstupidjerk—“

After the fourth time, she kneels down and starts splashing back, her words slurring together into an incoherent jumble of insults and swears. We chase each other up and down the flood plain for the next few minutes, flinging water at each other like little kids having a fight at the beach. Eventually, we’re both totally soaked and totally exhausted. Once we’ve worn each other out, we walk back to the artificial hillside leading up to the road and lay down on the grass to catch our breath. I turn to Kiyomi.

“Don’t you feel so much better now?” I pant.

For the first time since I met her, for just a moment, I swear she cracks a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently read my author notes for chapter 21, and noticed I ended by saying I’ll have another chapter soon.
> 
> That was nine months ago.
> 
> I was so confident at the time! I actually did have a good chunk of what was going to be chapter 22 written at that point, but then a whole hurricane of things happened. I moved, I got a new job, I had other projects to work on, and most of all, I wasn’t very happy with that version of this chapter. Life kind of took priority, though. Now that things have settled down, I’m glad to finally get another chapter of Memories of the City out of my head and into yours.
> 
> In Memories of the City, it was only six chapters ago that Yu found Kiyomi crying on a bench at school, but in the real world, I published that about a year and a half ago. My original idea of chapter 22 didn’t really involve Kiyomi in any meaningful sense, but given both how long it had been since I published chapter 16, and how I spent 4-5 chapters focusing on a Rise side story, I felt we were overdue to check in with her.
> 
> I’ve spent a while dancing around who or what Kiyomi is. It’s hard for me to say with any objectivity how subtle I’ve been, since I’ve known all along what her deal is. If you’ve been paying attention, you may have already figured out the basic idea, even if not the specifics. This chapter is about as explicitly as I’ll probably ever spell it out, haha. Hopefully, if you’ve figured it out, it makes her actions up to this point make a lot more sense in context.
> 
> I also wanted to take the time to develop Yu a bit more. It’s no secret that he cherishes his memories of high school, of his friends, and of Inaba. But do you think — as he drives around town and visits all these places he hasn’t really paid attention to in years — that Inaba’s actually changed all that much in his absence? Even the last time he visited in the winter, he wasn’t nearly so down on it. What do you think has really changed?
> 
> There will be more on Yumi Oz— er, Ishikawa later, but I thought I’d reintroduce her in this chapter, as I thought this scene with her also ties nicely into the overarching theme of the ways Inaba has and hasn’t changed since Yu’s been gone. She’s also there to provide contrast. The original game specifically called out her as seeming mature for her age, and I wanted someone who would seem very adult and sophisticated next to Yu, who’s struggling to hold himself together. I think it’s an existential crisis very common among people my age (which is to say, early 20s) — oh god, how does someone else my age already have their life together so well? I struggle for the motivation to do anything other than refresh the same five browser tabs all day…
> 
> Finally, I suppose there’s not really any reason to be coy about who the two people playing the game are, is there? It’s Philemon and Nyarlathotep, of _Persona 1_ and _2_ fame. For the uninitiated, Philemon essentially acts as a spirit guide, trying to guide humans to enlightenment, while Nyarlathotep is the embodiment of the darkness in people’s hearts. I don’t really plan the details of their involvement in this story to go much deeper than that.
> 
> Philemon remains in the background of _P3_ and _P4_ as the blue butterfly, but Nyarlathotep hasn’t popped up since the events of _Eternal Punishment_. I wanted their game here to be comical, though. These aren’t almighty beings battling over the fate of humanity anymore — they’re two elder gods shooting the breeze and passing the time. When choosing what game they’d play, I considered just making it chess or something, but when I thought about it, I figured the kind of game beings like Philemon and Nyarlathotep would play would be something completely incomprehensible to mere mortals.
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the song of the same name by Anna Tsuchiya, which was featured as an ending theme for the anime adaptation of _Nana_. I won’t gush too much to you about how great _Nana_ is, though I could probably write 80k words on that fact. Instead, I’ll just note that _Kuroi Namida_ — literally, Black Tears — is an incredibly beautiful and upsetting song about someone driven to the brink of suicide by the pain of living.
> 
> Once again, thanks for reading this story, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I appreciate all the kind words people have left over the literal years that I’ve been writing this now, and I especially appreciate how patient you must be to wait nine months for more. As always, you can reach me by leaving a comment here, or at my Tumblr, glimpseofamemory. I won’t try to make any promises about when there will be a new chapter; it will be out When It’s Done. I will promise, however, that there will be another. In the meantime, take care of yourself, okay?
> 
> \- Akinari


	23. We're Not Old At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yumi Ozawa is trying her best to move forward. Yu Narukami wants nothing more than to go back.

### August 5, 2015

Yumi Ozaw— you know, I forget her new family name, honestly — and I made plans to meet up at a coffee shop across town this afternoon, so I’m trying to decide what to wear. How nice should I look for this sort of thing? I don’t want to be a slob (not that I ever am), but if I’m too handsome, she might get the wrong idea.

No, that’s stupid. That was years ago, and she’s married now. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t dealt with this kind of thing before. Yukiko and Rise came onto me in high school and got rejected, and we’re still friends, right?

I’m overthinking it.

I’m buttoning up my polo shirt when the doorbell snaps me out of it.

“Big bro, someone’s here!”

I head downstairs and open the door to find Yosuke’s beaming grin.

“Morning, partner!” He walks in the front door without even asking, and takes a seat on the sofa. I don’t move from the doorway.

“You could have let me know you were coming,”

“That’d spoil the surprise,” he laughs. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“Dad paid me double my hourly rate for helping clean the store the other day. You and I are gonna go on a trip to Okina City and hit up the mall.”

“Not today, I’m not.”

“What? Why not?”

“I have plans this afternoon.”

“With who?” he asks, sitting on the edge of the seat.

“Er, I forget her new family name, but it’s Yumi Ozawa from high school.”

“Really? You’re ditching me to hang with the whiny drama club chick?” Yosuke leans back and crosses his legs, looking more than a little upset.

“I thought she was nice,” Nanako chimes in from the dinner table, where she’s snacking on a piece of toast.

“O-oh, hey Nanako-chan,” Yosuke says apologetically. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m not ditching you,” I argue. “I had plans before you just barged in here this morning. Besides, you and I can hang out anytime. We can always go shopping later. I haven’t seen Yumi in years.”

“Don’t worry, I see how it is.” He’s deliberately not making eye contact. “Some girl wants to see you, that always takes priority over me.” What’s gotten into him?

“For one thing, she’s married, and two, I have plenty of totally platonic friendships with girls.”

Before Yosuke can respond, Nanako leaps from the table with a piece of toast still in her mouth and stands between us. She spreads her arms out like she’s trying to hold us back.

“Ngh fghaghig!”

“You heard her,” I say. I take a seat next to Yosuke on the sofa.

“Ugh, sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean that, dude. I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now, and I was hoping I could hang out with you.”

“Is something going on?”

“I, uh, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s probably nothing. I mean…”

“If it’s that important to you, I can tell Yumi something came up.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. There’s just some personal family stuff going on, and I think it will blow over. Don’t let my stupid drama ruin your day, haha.”

I can tell something’s bothering him, but the past few days have taught me not to pry when people don’t want to talk. He stands up and starts heading out the door, before turning around one last time.

“Hey, I almost forgot. How’s Rise doing?”

From the look on his face, I can tell he’s worried about her. How should I tell him?

“She looked… sick. She seemed a little more upbeat after I visited her, though. I think Kanji and Teddie have been helping her as much as they can.”

“Yeah, Ted told me about that. Did she say she could come to our meetup this weekend?”

“She said she would.”

“Awesome. Thanks for asking for me.”

“Of course. You know, if you haven’t seen her yet and you’re looking for something to do today, I’m sure she’d love it if you hung out with her.” That puts the smile back on his face.

“That’s a great idea, partner. I’ll head down to Marukyu and see how she’s doing. Anyway, I’ll catch you later.”

“Later.”

And with that, he skips out the door.

———

Yumi’s destination of choice is an old _kissaten_ downtown, in the historical district near the town hall. I’ve rarely visited this part of town — it’s mostly filled with government offices and monuments. Oh, and trees. Lots of trees. Come to think of it, I think Dojima’s police station is somewhere around here. While the weather’s been kind the past few days, today’s overcast sky encourages me to pass through the coffee shop’s entrance as quickly as possible.

Immediately my nostrils are filled with the familiar aroma of tobacco, and my vision is fogged by the smoke. Through the haze I can see an old wooden interior, dimly lit and vaguely nostalgic. How has no one ever told me about this place before? I’m impressed by how much Yumi’s pick for a meetup location matches my personal taste.

Speaking of Yumi, I can see her waving at me from a booth next to the windows, seated in front of an empty ashtray. In her white sleeveless dress and heels, she clearly had none of my reservations about looking too attractive. She’s got the look of a woman who has her shit together. I thought this was just coffee, but I can’t help but suspect she has other ideas.

I’m still overthinking it, aren’t I?

I walk over to the booth and take my seat opposite her.

“Have you ever been here before?” she asks with a smile.

“No. I didn’t know there was anywhere like this in Inaba,” I admit.

“You’ve got it all wrong. This is the kind of place that could only exist out here.” I reach into my pocket for a cigarette.

“Do you smoke?” I ask her, planning to offer her one.

“Oh, definitely not,” she shakes her head. “It’s horrible for you.”

“Then why did you pick a place with so much smoke?”

“I like the atmosphere,” she answers as I light my cigarette. “Actually, it reminds me of my dad, when I was little. He brought a cloud around with him wherever he went back then.”

An old man, his hair retreating to the sides of his head and his eyes growing small from years of gravity, approaches our table to take our drink orders. Looking around, I realize I don’t see any other staff — just salarymen puffing away on their cigars. Maybe that says something about the kind of man Yumi’s dad was. The conversation resumes once the man I presume to be the owner walks away.

“So, you’re married,” I begin, starting with the most obvious subject.

“I am!” she smiles, holding her ring up with pride.

“Who’s the lucky man? Do I know him?”

“Ryuunosuke Ishikawa. He was two years ahead of us at Yasogami, so he graduated just before you moved here.”

“An older guy, huh?” I note innocently.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her side-eye gaze could kill. “Anyway, he’s an incredible guy. I feel so blessed every day to have him. But…” She sighs. “He works on a farm a few miles outside of town, and he always works really late. I really only see him for an hour before I go to bed most days.” She turns away from me, letting her eyes wander around at the trees beyond the window.

“I never expected you to be the lonely housewife type,” I say flatly.

“I didn’t either,” she says, not one bit bothered by my assessment of her. “Not everything turns out how you expect. Most things don’t.” She’s my age, but somehow she speaks as if she’s infinitely older.

The old man stops by with our drink orders, handing me my pure-black roast and Yumi a creamy latte. Yumi takes a drink before picking up the conversation.

“So what have you been up to since you left, Narukami-kun? Still breaking girls’ hearts?” I can’t tell if she means that as a joke, or if she’s actually bitter about it all these years later. Maybe a little of both.

“Not even a little. A girl broke mine, and I’ve been single for six months now.”

“You and Satonaka broke up?” I swear there’s a glint in her eye as she says it.

“She broke up with me,” I explain. “That’s why I said she broke my heart, and not the other way around.”

“That’s not how it works,” she says. “Inaba’s still as small as ever, you know. Everyone around you two could see how much she cared about you. Don’t be so self-centered as to think she wasn’t hurt, too.” I forgot how feisty Yumi could be.

“You have some strong feelings about a situation you don’t know anything about,” I observe dryly. She covers her mouth with one hand.

“That might have been a bit too far,” she admits. “I hope I’m not reopening any wounds.”

“It’s okay,” I lie. “I think we mostly just drifted apart. Long distances can really test the strength of a relationship.”

“I get lonely when my husband’s forty miles away, but at least he still comes home every night. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for the two of you.” She takes another drink of her latte.

“So, how have you been?” I ask, trying to change the subject. “What’s life after high school been like for you?”

“After graduation, I started going to a junior college out in Okina City. I was studying to be a teacher.”

“You’d look great in a pencil skirt,” I blurt out without thinking. She pulls her stirrer from her latte and flicks it, hurling drops of scalding coffee right at my eye. “Ow!”

“I know you’re a playboy, Narukami-kun, but you can’t go saying things like to a married woman.”

I don’t know whether it’s the atmosphere of this shop, or that dress she’s wearing, or how mature and _cool_ Yumi acts, or maybe all of it adding up to a fatal combination — I can’t help it. I know she’s married, but in some messed-up way that just makes her even _more_ attractive. And am I wrong to think she’s being a little flirty with me, too?

I’m starting to think having coffee with her was a bad idea.

“You know, I thought long and hard about what my parents meant back then,” she continues. “About my name, I mean. ‘To bear fruit.’ They said they named me that because they wanted me to have great things in my life, right?”

“Right,” I agree. It was years ago, but I could never forget watching Yumi’s last moments with her father.

“To me, though, bearing fruit isn’t about having good things for myself. It’s about passing what I have on to others. So I decided to become a teacher, so I could use what I’ve learned in my life to help kids build their futures.”

“That’s an admirable goal,” I assure her. She half-bows in her seat. “Didn’t you tell me the other day that you’re a stay-at-home housewife, though?”

“I’m getting to that part,” she says indignantly. “Remember what I said about things not going as you expect? Well… I stopped going to classes about a month ago.”

“Why?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.

“I’m pregnant.”

My hands fly to my face to cover my mouth as my whole upper body convulses. The only thing that stops me from spitting coffee all over the table is knowing it would completely destroy Yumi’s dress.

“Yeah, that was my reaction too,” she laughs.

“W-wow,” I stutter once I can finally choke down my drink. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you! I’m only about seven weeks pregnant now, so the baby’s not due until next year,” she continues with a smile. “But Ryu-kun told me it’d be okay for me to take a leave of absence from school a bit early. He makes enough money for both of us, so he thought I should take it easy.”

“He sounds like a dependable guy,” I remark, to which she nods happily. “I just can’t believe you’re having a child.” She’s married, pregnant, working towards a career, and she’s my age. Is she way too young for all this, or am I older than I’ve realized until just now?

What have I been doing with my life?

“I can’t believe it either,” she says. 

“That’s a life-changing situation, isn’t it? You’re going to have to raise that kid and care for it for the rest of your life. How are you planning to deal with school once you’ve got all that to handle?”

Her smile weakens.

“That’s…. going to be difficult,” she admits. “I’m still not quite sure yet, to be honest. But I’m sure Ryu-kun and I will figure something out.” She bites her lip. “Anyway, let’s talk about something cheerier! You’ve been going to college out in the city, right? I bet that’s been fun.”

I’m not sure that subject is much cheerier.

“It’s been great. Yosuke and I just had mid-terms—“

“Oh, right, I totally forgot. Hanamura-kun’s going to the same school as you, huh?”

“We’re roommates, actually.”

“That’s great! I’m glad you’ve got a friend out there,” she smiles genuinely. “Sorry, I didn’t meant to interrupt you!”

“No worries. I was just saying we had our mid-terms before summer break, and I scored top marks on all of them. I’m actually in the top five percent of the whole university in GPA, apparently.”

“Just what I’d expect from Narukami-kun. Not content to conquer just Inaba, you set your sights on Tokyo. Next,” she gestures dramatically with her hands as she channels her inner performer, “the world.”

“Then the galaxy,” I add.

Yumi laughs, only for her laughter to be interrupted by a coughing fit.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she wheezes. “I just got a lungful of smoke.”

“You know, you probably shouldn’t be breathing in all this second-hand smoke with a baby in tow,” I point out.

She looks at me like a switch just flipped in her head.

“You’re absolutely right. I hadn’t even thought about it. I’m not ready to say goodbye to you just yet, though. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How about we go somewhere else?”

“Do you have anywhere in mind?”

“How about my place? I’m bored all day at home, so it’d be nice to have some company. We could watch some movies together.”

Am I uncomfortable with this?

Of course I’m uncomfortable with this.

I have every reason to be uncomfortable with this.

It would be unbelievable if I were not uncomfortable with this.

“Sounds good to me.”

———

“Well, make yourself at home.”

Even before I’ve finished slipping off my shoes, I’m impressed at how nice this house is. The walls are an impeccably modern white, with beautifully finished wooden flooring. Dojima’s feels like an old shack in comparison. From the way Yumi described her husband as a farmer, I wouldn’t expect him to make so much money, but I suppose he must work those long hours for a reason.

She leads me into the living room, where a comfy-looking sofa sits opposite a large flat-screen TV. I go ahead and take a seat on the couch while Yumi thumbs through a DVD collection. Still, I’m in awe of this house. What are the odds I’ll be able to afford something like this in two years? It seems impossible.

“Oh wow,” Yumi giggles, snapping me out of my wonder. “I forgot I still had this. Remember this?” She holds up a DVD of some musical I’ve never seen before. Still, she expects me to remember it, so…

“Yeah, but it was a long time ago,” I bluff.

“I lent this to you back when you first joined the drama club,” she smiles. “We should watch it together! I love the lead actress, she’s got such a beautiful voice.” She opens the DVD player and puts it in. “Oh, I’ll go make us some popcorn while it starts, too.” She seems so excited for some reason.

“You’re looking energetic.”

“Oh, don’t make me say why, Narukami-kun,” she groans as she walks towards the kitchen.

“Why?” I ask, my head following her as she walks behind me. “I’m genuinely curious.”

“Come on. You know I’ve never made friends easily. This is the first time I’ve gotten to hang out with anyone but my husband in ages.” She pulls a bag from the pantry and pops it in the microwave. “You’re honestly one of the only real friends I’ve ever had, you know.”

That’s… kind of pitiful. Now that I think about it, a big house like this must just feel overwhelmingly empty when you spend the whole day alone in it. Yet she seems so happy as she walks to the couch with a big bowl of popcorn in hand and takes a seat next to me.

“Say ahh,” she commands me.

“Ahh,” I oblige her as she tosses a piece of popcorn in my mouth with a giggle. She sets the bowl on her lap as she hits the play button on the DVD remote. Then she rests her head on my shoulder as she continues snacking.

Does she even realize what she’s doing?

———

“What time is it?” Yumi asks, wearily raising her head. We totally lost track at some point — the sun’s already set. I pull my phone from my pocket.

“Nine o’clock,” I observe.

“Did we really just watch movies for seven hours?” she chuckles, stretching her arms out. “Actually, I say that, but I probably wouldn’t mind one more movie…”

“What time is your husband usually home?”

“Who even cares,” she scoffs. “He’s probably off with his girlfriend.”

“Wait, what?”

“I mean, I don’t know for sure, but it’s not hard to guess,” she sighs, curling her knees up on the couch. “I know this may be weird, since we haven’t seen each other in so long, but… do you mind if I vent to you a little?”

The mood in this living room suddenly feels as dark as the sky outside.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Please, keep this to yourself. Don’t tell anyone. I mean it.” I don’t know who I would tell, but…

“I won’t.”

“And please, promise,” she clasps my hand with both of hers as she looks me straight in the eye, “you won’t hate me for what I’m about to say, okay?” What exactly is she about to tell me?

“I won’t.”

“I… I don’t think I want this baby.” Oh no. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

“Of course not,” I try to comfort her, despite feeling completely out of my depth. “A child’s a lifelong commitment. I can barely imagine how terrifying that must be.”

“You were right about what you said earlier. It’s going to change my whole life if I have it. If I ever even make it back to school, it’ll be so much more difficult to study and work while taking care of a child. But I don’t know what to do. Ryu-kun wants kids so badly. And even if I decide not to keep it, what then? Do I have it and put it up for adoption? Or…”

Look. I’ve had a lot of people offload their problems onto me.

I am used to carrying other people’s baggage around like it’s weightless.

But I am not remotely prepared to handle this kind of situation.

“Yumi, I—“

“I’m so sorry, I know this is putting a lot on you so suddenly, but I just don’t have anyone else to talk to about this. My mom’s so eager to have grandkids, and Ryu-kun’s family would hate me if they knew.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “But I know I can trust you, Narukami-kun.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you. Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to be able to solve all my problems or anything, I just want someone kind for me to let all this out to… though that probably makes me sound really selfish.”

“That’s not selfish,” I say, wondering if my words sound as false to her as when Kiyomi told me the same thing. “You’ve been stuck here alone with all this on your mind. Anyone would be ready to burst if they kept all that bottled up.”

“You’re so kind and understanding, Narukami-kun. I wish you weren’t so far away all the time.”

She looks up at me with an expression of sheer admiration in her watering eyes, and I just…

I can’t help myself.

I lean forward.

I close my eyes.

I kiss her.

I can taste her—

_OW!_

She _slams_ her palms directly in my chest, knocking me back against the armrest of the couch. She leaps off the couch with pure fear in her eyes.

Fuck.

I fucked up.

I _really_ fucked up.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you?!” she screams.

“I’m so sorry, I—“

“You think you can just walk back in to my life after four years and _kiss me?_ After everything I just told you?!”

“I—“

“I told you four years ago that I loved you! And I said, if you don’t feel the same way, just leave the room. And you know what you did? You walked right through the door without a fucking word! You think you can just take that back four years later like nothing happened?”

“Yumi, I swear—“

“I’m sure you probably walked right out of that door and straight into Satonaka’s arms, but I was _destroyed_. I cried the entire rest of the day. It took the rest of high school for me to get over you. But you know what? I _got over you._ I moved on. Even if you didn’t love me, you saw me as a friend, and I respected that. But now you come into my life four years later, and I put my _trust_ in you, and you think you can just tear down everything I’ve been working toward?”

“Yum—“

“I had a good time today, Narukami-kun. Please go while I can still remember it that way. Just go.”

I can still hear her crying as I put on my shoes.

———

“Oh, you’re here again,” Kiyomi greets me at the foot of her shrine.

“You sound so happy to see me,” I reply.

She doesn’t talk back, just stares at the cobblestone path underfoot.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask her. Not that she ever acts upbeat or cheerful.

“I know why you’re here,” she says ominously.

“What do you mean?” She doesn’t mean she knows what happened with Yumi… does she?

“You’re here to create another fantasy, aren’t you?” Oh, if that’s all…

“I am.”

“Narukami-kun.” She stands up and looks up at me with her one grey eye. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do this,” she answers, taking a step toward me. “Don’t come here to escape anymore.” This feels a little out of nowhere.

“Why not? Aren’t you the one who introduced me to this place to begin with? Don’t you come here all the time?”

“And I told you to stay away from me too, didn’t I?” Fair enough. “Please believe me. This place isn’t good for you. It will only hurt you if you keep coming here.”

“I know that. But it’s just for tonight.”

“If you understand, then please listen to me. Don’t do this.”

“I had a horrible day, Kiyomi. I need this right now.”

“Please, I’m begging you,” she pleads, her voice increasingly desperate as she grabs my arm.

“And I’m begging you,” I retort, looking down at her. “Let me do this.”

Suddenly Kiyomi collapses to the ground with a scream, cupping her head in her hands.

“Kiyomi? What’s wrong?”

“I was stupid,” she mutters, covering the side of her head where her left eye should be, “to get my hopes up.” Her whole body trembles as her forehead drops all the way to the ground, and for a moment she just lays there perfectly still. I almost think she died.

Then she picks herself back up from the floor and stands upright again as if nothing happened.

“Kiyomi,” I ask nervously, “what was that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she scoffs, wiping a tear from her emerald-green eye. “I’m fine. Forget it.” She exhales deeply. “Do you still want to do this?”

“Do what?” I’m so stunned I forgot for a second why I’m even here.

“Live out a fantasy. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“O-oh, right.”

“Then come on.” She walks towards me and grabs me by the hand, before transporting me to the empty white abyss.

“Close your eyes,” Kiyomi whispers, “and picture it in your head.”

I breathe in, imagining how the room was all those years ago: the desks and chairs shoved off to the side, and that rack of costumes in the back. When I open my eyes I’m in the drama club room, where Yumi stands facing away from me in her Yasogami High uniform.

Wait, no.

I close my eyes, and open them again.

That white dress.

“I’ll leave you alone.” Kiyomi opens the door and exits the room, leaving Yumi and I by ourselves.

“Y-Y’know…” Yumi stutters, “I… I love you… So, uh… I’ll turn around, so if you’re going to reject me, just leave the room. That way, I won’t have to see you go…”

I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her stomach. She turns to face me, gazing at me with that same adoring expression from before, before leaning in to kiss me. She cups my head in her hands, her long fingers running along my cheek before they make their way down my shoulders. Without so much as looking I reach out and grab a desk, then shove it behind her so she can sit on top of it…

. . .

. . . . .

I spent a long time alone with Yumi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading chapter 23 of _Yu Narukami is a Fucking Idiot Who Fucks Everything Up, God, What an Asshole_. This chapter… uh…. it went some places, didn’t it?
> 
> I feel like I’m constantly walking a tightrope when writing this story. On the one hand, Yu is the protagonist of the story. You mainly see the story through his eyes, and of course, he was the hero of the original game. I’ve tried to make him very sympathetic in many ways, and I’ve heard from quite a few readers who relate to the depression-fueled rut he finds himself in.
> 
> The problem is, Yu is also the _antagonist_ of the story. After all, it’s not a _Persona 4_ story without facing the darker side of yourself, and this is a story about Yu giving into his worst tendencies. I worry about the effect that might have on some readers, to make you feel like you can relate to Yu, only to then show him doing something really awful… but then again, maybe you can relate to that, too.
> 
> To Yu, Yumi looks like someone who has her life in order in a way he simply can’t imagine. She has a husband, a home, a plan for the future. In some way, I think, that’s what’s so attractive about her to him — she represents this feeling of adulthood and maturity that he finds so elusive. Of course, nothing’s that simple. Yumi carries a lot of baggage of her own. From her husband. From her studies. From her pregnancy. From Yu himself.
> 
> Yumi’s rejection of Yu’s advances completely shocks him, I think. He’s so used to being able to have any girl he wants, he didn’t even imagine this girl who fell for him years ago would possibly turn him down now. One thing to remember is that this story is ultimately seen through Yu’s eyes. While I wouldn’t go so far as to call him an unreliable narrator, what you read is ultimately colored by his reading (or misreading) of a situation. Despite her loneliness, Yumi wasn’t looking for a lover. She was looking for a friend, and Yu completely betrayed her trust.
> 
> Kiyomi, meanwhile, seems (at least initially) intent on stopping Yu from abusing the notebook world any further. Come to think of it, he also went to use it last chapter too, only for Kiyomi to get him to take her to Inaba instead. Perhaps she was trying to keep him out of the notebook then, too…? The problem with saying too much about why Kiyomi acts the way she does is that I’m very deliberately trying to convey as much of her story as I can while spelling out as little of it as possible. I already spent last chapter telling you her backstory as clearly as I thought would be appropriate, so I’ll let you be the judge of why she acts the way she does here…
> 
> The chapter title this time comes from the song “Bear”, by The Antlers. I’ll let you look up the lyrics if you’re interested, because, whew. Next chapter should be the last in this Inaba summer vacation story, before we head back to Tokyo. I’m sure the Investigation Team’s reunion will be nothing but smiles and joy. Until then, you can always reach me by leaving me a review or comment here, and at my Tumblr, glimpseofamemory. Take care!
> 
> \- Akinari


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